


Christmas Courage

by ramblingsofaqueerwoman



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bookstores, Fluff, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, Kid Fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, Teacher Quentin Coldwater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramblingsofaqueerwoman/pseuds/ramblingsofaqueerwoman
Summary: “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear.”Eliot Waugh's life has gotten entirely too complicated.He just got out of a messy divorce, during which he lost his job, and now he's gotten news that his grandmother has passed away and left him a house. He packs up his bags and his seven year old son and heads to Hopewell, the small town where he used to spend every Christmas, in the hope of finding something that will make sense. What he finds is a familiar book store, old friends, and an adorable fourth grade teacher by the name of Quentin Coldwater.But will Eliot be brave enough to hold onto what he's found?(Inspired by the Hallmark movie 'Hope at Christmas')
Relationships: Kady Orloff-Diaz/Julia Wicker, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 23
Kudos: 96
Collections: Magicians Hallmark Holiday Extravaganza





	1. The Book Bea

**Author's Note:**

> A huge shoutout to my artist, sogvozdeva, who created the beautiful art you see in this fic! She's amazing and wonderful and so incredibly talented, you can take a look at her work [here](https://sogvozdeva.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thank you to the Greatest Of All Betas, my dear friend Katie, for all of her grammatical help, plot hole fixing, and endless moral support. I love you, mufuk. Please go give her some love at her [tumblr](https://missberryisbest.tumblr.com/) and her [fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missberryisbest/pseuds/missberryisbest).
> 
> And of course, you can check out my own tumblr [here](https://ramblingsofaqueerwoman.tumblr.com/).

It was two weeks to Christmas and Eliot Waugh was lost.

In the literal sense. He was lost in that he wasn’t entirely sure what road they were on or how to get to his destination. His cell service had flaked out twenty minutes ago so he was navigating based off fuzzy childhood memories, which arguably is not the best idea when you’ve got an seven-year-old child in the backseat screaming that he needs to pee. 

However, Eliot was also lost in the metaphorical sense. It had been three months since he’d gotten divorced and lost his job all in the same week. The divorce hadn’t been a surprise, he was the one who had filed after all, but it was still emotional and exhausting, and then to find he’d been laid off on top of that? He hadn’t exactly been in the best mental place. 

Because the universe hated him and wanted to watch him suffer, he had gotten a chance to interview for the perfect position at Andrieski Hedge Funds only to completely bomb the meeting. Still reeling from that shattering blow to his confidence, he had gotten the news two days later that his grandmother had passed. 

It broke him. All he had wanted to do was to curl up in bed and wallow in misery for a very long time. However, having a kid doesn’t really allow that, and neither does a best friend who breaks into your apartment to pack your suitcases and tell you ‘you’re going to that Gucci-forsaken town in the ass crack of nowhere and you’re going to look at this house your grandma left you or so help me, I will take a scissors to your silk ties’. 

So here he was, obeying Margo because that’s what everyone did who didn’t have a death wish, trying to remember the directions to the town of Hopewell. 

“Papa, I need to pee!” Teddy shouted from the backseat, for the third time in as many minutes. Eliot’s hands tightened on the wheel and he tried to remind himself that yelling at your child is not in the christmas spirit. 

“I know you do, Teddy Bear, we’ll find a place soon, I promise.” Theodore Rupert Waugh was seven-years-old, going on sixteen. He was precocious, intelligent, and extremely opinionated. All wonderful attributes that Eliot loved about his son, just not so much when he was trapped in a car with him and he was getting on every single one of his nerves. 

Teddy huffed a sigh in the backseat, crossing his arms dramatically. Eliot took a deep breath, in and out. _This is the first christmas he’s going to have to spend without one of his parents, he’s allowed to be grumpy and emotional_ , he reminded himself. _On top of that, he’s **my** kid, of course he’s gonna be a dramatic little shit. _  
  
He recognized a street name ahead of them and sent up a silent _thank you_ to the universe. A left and then a right and there was Main Street, lined with happy small town shoppers and twinkling christmas decorations. It was the definition of wholesome. 

“We made it!” Teddy screamed happily, his bladder forgotten as he bounced in his seat, craning his neck to take in everything. 

Eliot let out a sigh and felt his entire body relax. They made it. There was something about Hopewell that always made him feel at ease, it was like the problems of the real world couldn’t touch him here. 

“We sure did!” He looked over his shoulder to grin at Teddy. “And I think we deserve a cookie.” 

Teddy squealed and clapped his hands excitedly as they parked in front of the bakery. One bathroom break and two giant cookies later, they were strolling hand in hand down the sidewalk, stretching their legs after the long ride. 

“I like this place, Papa,” Teddy mumbled around a mouthful of cookie. “It looks like a storybook.” 

Eliot smiled down at him, enjoying seeing his kid’s reaction to the town he loved so much when he was his age. 

“It does, doesn’t it?” he agreed. “Speaking of storybooks, I wanna show you my favorite place here.” 

Teddy bounced as they walked, always filled to the brim with energy. “What is it? What is it?” he asked. 

Eliot laughed and pulled him to a stop, pointing up at the building they were in front of. “This is it!”

Teddy craned his neck to read the sign way above his head. “The Book Bea,” he said slowly. “Why did they spell Bea like that?” 

“Because Bea is the name of the woman who owns the shop,” he explained. “Let’s see if she’s in.” 

The inside of the shop was exactly the same as he remembered it. Books stacked on tables and lined on shelves along walls, cozy armchairs spread around where people could curl up and read if they wanted to, a coffee pot in the corner with a collection of mismatching mugs, and behind the counter was a woman who looked like every comforting mother and grandmother melted into one sweet loving person. She looked up at the pair entering the shop and her entire face lit up. 

“Is that Eliot Waugh?” Bea’s voice was a little softer, but still as strong as it used to be. Eliot grinned from ear to ear as he moved forward to embrace her. He hadn’t realized just how much he had missed the older woman. “Young man, you have stayed away for far too long and that is unacceptable.” 

He gave her a squeeze and pulled away, surprised at the dampness in his eyes. “Sorry, Bea,” he whispered. “Hey, I have someone for you to meet!” He laid a hand on Teddy’s shoulder, nudging him forward. Bea gave a gasp and her smile widened even more. Teddy grinned up at the woman and stuck out his hand. 

“I’m Theodore,” he declared proudly. Bea leaned forward and shook his hand. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Theodore,” she said. “When your father was your age he used to come in here all the time to read stories.”

Teddy crinkled up his nose, confused. “Papa doesn’t read,” he said, shaking his head.

Eliot and Bea laughed, and Teddy looked up at them pleased that he had said something funny. Eliot ruffled his hair. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But Bea would read stories to me, and I’d help her out around the store,” he said. 

Teddy nodded like that made perfect sense, oblivious to the way Bea was looking at him, like he was the most precious thing in the universe. Eliot felt his heart ache. He had missed her. He had missed this town. 

He had missed feeling okay.

“Now, Mr. Theodore, I have a very special talent for finding the _perfect_ book for someone,” Bea said, leaning down so she was on the same level as him. “How would you feel about going to pick out a book with me?” 

Teddy looked up at his dad with hopeful eyes and Eliot nodded. The boy took Bea’s offered hand softly, suddenly shy, and she gently led him away to the children’s section, talking to him about dashing adventures and heroes as they went. 

Eliot watched fondly after them, but he was distracted by movement out of the corner of his eye. There was a man browsing children books, and something about him called to Eliot.

He was wearing a loose sweater over a button up, with a messenger bag slung across his chest, and his hair was pulled back into a small bun at the back of his head. Shorter hairs had escaped the tie and hung loose, framing his face in a messy way. His fingers traced along the spines of the books, his brow furrowed as he considered each one in turn. 

Eliot felt a familiar sort of pull in his gut as he watched the man browse and realized with a shock that he was checking the man out, and not in an innocent people-watching kind of way. It was in the ‘this is the kind of man I want to take to supper and then to bed’ kind of way. And then he felt surprised that he was shocked that he was checking a cute man out, and suddenly he felt the need to sit down because clearly he was having a full-on identity crisis. 

Eliot knew who he was. _Of course he did. Don’t be ridiculous_. Eliot checked everyone out, man or woman, that’s just who he was, that shouldn’t be surprising. But then he tried to remember the last time he had actually done that, had felt carefree enough to appreciate another person in that way, and realized with a start that it had been months. 

_He hadn’t been himself in months._ It was jarring to realize that something that he counted as such a key part of himself had been missing for such a long time, and he hadn’t even noticed. He had been too caught up in everything with Mike, it had left him drained. He had spent every ounce of energy he had left making sure that Teddy was okay, but now they were free and he no longer had to spend every second of every day worrying about how they were going to survive. That part of his brain that was a blend of _aesthetic appreciatio_ n and _horny motherfucker_ , had woken back up and decided he was ready to check out cute guys again. 

_Would have been nice to have a little warning_ , he thought ruefully.

He pulled himself out of his brain fog and realized he had been staring at Cute Man the entire time. And Cute Man had noticed. _Cute Man was checking him out too._

“Oh, god,” Eliot muttered under his breath and turned away quickly, picking up the closest book and pretending to examine it. He felt his face heating up. _Get it together, Waugh_ , he chastised himself. _You’re not a teenage virgin, you don’t blush when a cute guy looks at you._ Maybe he did, once upon a time, but now? It felt like someone had invited him to dance and he suddenly remembered he didn’t know any of the steps. He couldn’t deny, however, that it felt good to blush, it felt good to have someone check him out, have someone want him. Now that he knew how long it had been, he suddenly missed it. 

When he risked a glance back over in that direction, Cute Man had disappeared. He felt a sudden surge of panic that he had missed his chance and the other man was gone forever. He inched forward and peered around the shelf, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the shorter man browsing at the other end. He was about to berate himself for getting far too over-attached to a complete stranger, when he noticed that the other man took a book off the shelf and slid it into his own bag, before looking over his shoulder as if to see if anyone had seen.

Eliot’s mouth dropped open. _He’s stealing! Cute Man is stealing!_ He shifted so he could watch the man circle around to another shelf and saw as he hid another book in his bag. Eliot’s tiny developing crush disappeared as it was replaced with indignation that anyone would dare steal from Bea. 

_Well, not on my watch._

Quentin Coldwater was panicking. He was known to do that every once in a while.

Currently he was panicking because there was a man who looked like a Greek God staring at him from across the bookstore. Also his heart had had a very noticeable reaction to that fact, flopping about in his chest like a fish on dry land, and that might have added to the panic level. He was used to admiring men who looked like that, he was only human after all, but he was less used to them admiring him back. 

He took a deep breath to calm down his racing mind and moved out of Tall-and-Handsome’s line of sight. He reminded himself what he was here for and tried to focus on the book titles in front of him. The harder he focused, however, the more his mind drifted away to thoughts of elegant fingers and an aquiline nose. 

_Get your shit together, Quentin_ , he berated himself. _It’s just the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, it’s no big deal_. It wasn’t like he was picturing what it would be like to cuddle up on the couch with this random stranger or what his lips would feel like pressed against his own. He didn’t have those kind of thoughts, not anymore. At least that’s what his lying brain tried to convince his eager heart.

He finally gave up on focusing and just grabbed a random book off the shelf, stuffing it in his bag with the others and hoping it would end up being usable. He headed towards the door, determined to leave before he got in any more trouble. He figured he’d swing by later after the man had left to settle up with Bea, but before he could get any further he was interrupted by a sharp voice coming from behind him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

Quentin whirled around, startled, and found himself up close and personal with Mr. Tall-and-Handsome himself.

_Man. Eyes. Neck. Hands._

_Fuck._

_Okay. Words. Speak._

“I-I’m sorry?” Quentin stammered. His mind was reeling, too distracted to figure out if it was supposed to be happy that the stranger was talking to him or upset that he sounded angry.

“You’re stealing!” The taller man hissed at him, voice lowered, almost like he didn’t want to cause a scene. Quentin should definitely not be finding the stranger’s indignation endearing. He then realized what he’d just been accused of and rushed to explain himself.

“No, it’s not…” he gestured vaguely behind himself at the shelves. “I’m not stealing anything.” 

Before he could finish, Tall-and-Handsome was interrupting him. “I saw you put those books in your bag, and you were clearly going to walk out without paying. That constitutes stealing.” 

He tried to stammer out a response but the other man was already calling Bea over. She was with a small child, showing him a book, but looked up when she heard her name being called. Her and the child came over to join them, Bea giving the stranger a large smile, and _who was this person that Bea was giving him her family smile?_

“Bea, this man is stealing from you,” Tall-and-Handsome declared. “I saw it myself.” Quentin turned to give Bea a helpless look. She raised her eyebrows, looking between the two of them, before laughing.

“Eliot,” she said gently, “I’d like you to meet Quentin Coldwater. He teaches fourth grade at the middle school and he borrows books from here to read to the class.” 

_Eliot_. Apparently Quentin was turning into a teenage girl, because just knowing the stranger’s name was giving him butterflies in his stomach. He watched Eliot’s face as the man realized his own mistake and a blush of embarrassment spread across his cheeks. 

_Oh no, he went from hot to cute. Oh god. Oh fuck._

His face had been handsome before, but now it had softened around the edges in a way that made him look kind. His hand came down to rest on the shoulder of the boy, who leaned into him absentmindedly. 

Quentin connected the dots, that must be his kid. He noticed the boy was examining a copy of Fillory and Further and decided to get the hell out of dodge before he started rambling about the book and making an even worse impression on Eliot.

“Um, yeah, so I’ve got all the books I need, I’ll swing by later to drop off the list,” he said. “I should really get going though.” He leaned over to give Bea a quick hug. He turned to leave before remembering his manners and spinning back around. 

“Eliot, it was…” he met the taller man’s eyes and paused. Eliot was looking at him intently, but he couldn’t figure out the emotions behind the look. “It was nice to meet you,” he finished.

He left before Eliot’s eyes could stare into his soul any longer. He thought he heard a quiet “You too,” from behind him as he flew out the door, but it was probably his imagination. 

Eliot watched as the cute man disappeared through the door. 

_Quentin Coldwater_. What kind of name is that, anyway?

Teddy tugged on his coat, pulling him out of his reverie. “Papa! Papa! Can we bring this one home please? I love it!” He held the book up high so Eliot could read the title.

“Fillory and Further?” Eliot said. 

Teddy nodded his head furiously. "It’s got magic in it!" 

“Yes, we can get it,” Eliot laughed. “Bring it to the counter so we can pay for it.”

The little boy bolted off and Eliot moved to follow him, but Bea stopped him and gave him a knowing look. 

“No,” he told her, raising a finger to stop any funny ideas she might be getting. 

“He’s very cute and very single,” she suggested, grinning. 

Eliot shook his head firmly. “I’m barely getting over Mike, I am not in any way ready to date again. I wouldn’t even know what to do on a date! And on top of that, there’s Teddy to think about, I can’t just go around springing new people on him.”

The older woman crossed her arms stubbornly, looking at him with far too much knowledge for his taste. “I think you’re more ready than you know,” she said cryptically.

They were interrupted by Teddy running back to them, clutching the large book to his chest. “Come _on_ , Papa, we gotta pay!”

Bea caught the little boy and pulled him close for a hug. “Nuh uh, this is a gift from me,” she said, giving him a loving smile. Teddy looked to Eliot for permission, jumping up and down happily when he nodded at him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he squealed. 

Bea bent down to tap his nose. “Merry Christmas, Theodore.”

He beamed up at her. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Bea!” 

Eliot gave her a grateful smile as he took Teddy’s hand and they turned to leave.

“Eliot,” Bea called after them. He turned to look at her, and she raised one eyebrow at him. “Think about it, okay?”

He threw his head back imperviously and bundled Teddy out the door. “I will most definitely not be doing that, thank you, Bea.” He could hear her laughing behind him. “Merry Christmas!” he called over his shoulder as the door shut behind them. 


	2. Minor Mending Magic

The old victorian house hadn’t changed at all.

Eliot sat in the parked car, staring up at the familiar sight. It stood out amongst the other houses, with its circular tower and stained glass windows, intricate details in the wrought iron work. It was like a beacon of hope in the small town, promising that there was another world outside the city limits, a world of elegance where people cared about the finer things and didn’t care if a boy liked other boys.

Well, maybe it only said that to Eliot. 

This house had been his refuge as a child. Every winter his parents would dump him unceremoniously on his grandmother’s front step and drive away. He would stand there, holding his breath until he could no longer hear their tires on the gravel road, and then he would let it all out in a giant gasp. He would finally be able to breathe, knowing that for the next two weeks he could be entirely and unapologetically himself. Eliot smiled fondly as he remembered how he would spend hours in the attic, rummaging around in his grandmother’s trunks full of antique clothes and trinkets, coming up with entire storylines of jilted lovers and mysterious disappearances and a handsome stranger who would come to whisk him away from everything he couldn’t stand. 

He remembered Margo’s confusion when he had been so distraught over his grandmother’s death. She had never been close to any of her family members, so she didn’t understand why it was affecting him like it was. 

“Why do you care so much?” she had asked, not unkindly.

“She was the only one who never tried to change me,” he had whispered from his nest of blankets he had burrowed in. “My childhood was shit. The whole world was against me, trying to kill off the parts of me that were different, making me fit in this tiny box that they had built. But for three weeks every Christmas, I had someone who liked me just the way I was.”

He remembered how his grandmother would scoop him up into her arms and hold him tight, whispering ‘ _you are perfect, little one, don’t you change a thing_ ’. His throat tightened with emotion as he heard her voice echo through his memories. 

Her couldn’t make Margo understand how it had felt to realize she was gone. It was like some string inside of him had broken, a string he hadn’t even realized was there until it was gone. Now he felt like Pinnochio, a puppet with all the strings cut, but instead of turning into a real boy he was free falling into nothingness. 

"Is that great-grandma's house, Papa?" Teddy's voice piped up from the backseat, shaking him out of his thoughts. 

"That's it, bug. You ready to go check it out?" he asked. 

"Yes!" Teddy clambered out of the car and rushed to the front door. Eliot couldn't get the door unlocked fast enough for him, laughing as the kid zipped inside and up the stairs before he could even get the door open all the way. 

"Eliot?" He heard a feminine voice calling his name from across the driveway and turned to find the source. A short woman his own age was walking towards him from the house next door, soft brown curls escaping her winter hat. "Is that really you?" 

She had changed over the years, but not enough to be unrecognizable. "Julia!" He stepped towards her unsure of how she would greet him, and was surprised when she put down the box she was carrying and pulled him into a hug. He felt his throat tightening up again with emotion and he firmly told it to _cut that out right now_. 

Julia had been the closest thing he had to a best friend as a kid, even though he’d only seen her at Christmas. They would both arrive in Hopewell that first week of December, shipped off to their respective grandparents for the holidays, and they would be inseparable until they left. The two of them had created a pact that for those three weeks the outside world didn’t exist, it was just the two of them and their magical little town. It hadn’t mattered who they were back in the real world, when they were in Hopewell they could be whoever they wanted to be. Then Mike had happened, and he had left both Hopewell and Julia behind. 

"Hi," Eliot whispered to the top of Julia’s head. 

"Hey, dumdum," she teased, squeezing him tight. She finally released him, pulling back just to smack him on the arm. His jaw dropped. "That's for not telling me you were coming!" she reprimanded. He couldn't help the fond smile that spread across his face as he rubbed his arm in feign offense, mentally adding her to the list of things he hadn't realized he missed. 

Her head tilted in concern. "How are you doing?" she asked gently. He took a deep breath to answer but it was surprisingly shaky so he opted to just smile at her instead. His emotions kept trying to surface today and he was going to have a very stern talk with them later about staying locked up where they belong. 

Julia seemed to be able to tell he was on the edge, placing a hand gently on his arm. "Tell you what. How about I give you guys a couple days to settle in, and then you come on over and we can catch up?" Eliot looked away. He wanted to. He _really_ wanted to. It would be good to talk to someone about everything, and he’d always had a sort of understanding with Julia. He couldn’t remember why he had lost contact with her. _Oh that’s right_ , he thought, _Mike_. 

Julia nudged him and he realized he hadn’t answered yet. “Come on,” she pleaded. “I'll open a bottle of wine! Or two. Or three.” He chuckled at the mischievous smile on her face. 

“Well, I suppose, if you’re going to open three bottles of wine,” he conceded. He felt a surge of warmth in his chest at her excited grin and was grateful for the distraction of Teddy coming running out of the house.

“Papa, I know where we should put the christmas tree!” He skidded to a stop when he realized his dad wasn’t alone. “Who are you?” he asked, eyeing Julia with curiosity. 

Eliot rolled his eyes at his son’s manners. “Theodore…” he warned. 

The boy huffed dramatically and stepped forward to offer his hand, obviously thinking this was a ridiculous requirement. “Hi, I’m Theodore,” he intoned monotonically. “What’s your name?”

Julia grinned and crouched down so she was on the same level as the child. “I’m Julia,” she reached out and shook his hand. “I live in that house right next to yours, and I actually have a little girl who’s just about your age.”

Teddy’s eyes lit up at the prospect of a playmate. “Really?” he asked excitedly. 

Julia nodded. “You can meet her tonight at the Tree Lighting Ceremony, if you guys are going?” She looked up at Eliot for confirmation.

“Can we go, Papa?” Teddy begged. “Please?”

Eliot’s face softened. He couldn’t deny how rough the past few weeks had been on his son and it had been a while since he’d seen him so excited and happy. It was the only thing that mattered to him now, seeing Teddy happy, and this was an easy thing to give him. 

“Yes, we can go,” he said. Teddy squealed and gave Julia a high five.

The bell chimed above his head as Quentin walked into The Book Bea for the second time that day. He saw Bea glance up at him with a smile, and walked over to join her at the checkout counter. 

“Back so soon?” Bea teased him. He rolled his eyes and handed over the sheet of paper he had printed out. 

“Reading list for next semester,” he explained. Quentin always tried to give her a heads up for what books he was covering in class, so she could make sure to have enough for the kids. She nodded, looking it over.

“I already have most of these, but I’ll order the ones I don’t.” She put it down and regarded him with a sly grin. “You couldn’t have dropped this off when you were here earlier?”

Quentin glared at her with a look that said _‘I know what you’re doing, and you need to stop’_. “I meant to,” he said. “I may have gotten a little...distracted.” 

Bea’s smile softened to something more tender. “You know, I’ve known Eliot for a long time, he’s a good man. I think the two of you would get along.”

Quentin sighed, equally fond and exasperated. “Has anyone ever told you you’re not very subtle?”

“It’s been mentioned,” she laughed. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “Think about it, okay? Maybe it’s time to move on.” He ducked his chin, swallowing thickly. 

“Anyway,” she patted his arm and withdrew her hand. “I was hoping to go to the Tree Lighting Ceremony tonight but it snowed earlier and now everything’s going to be icy and I’m afraid I’ll just have to stay home.” She paused. Quentin pointedly avoided looking at her. He had no doubt she had also finagled Eliot into going the ceremony and he was _not_ about to deal with that tonight.

“Unless,” she continued. “A very kind someone would volunteer to walk me there, and give me a strong arm to lean on…” She trailed off, looking at him hopefully. 

Quentin was a grown man. He wasn’t going to give in to the puppy eyes of his pseudo-grandmother. He had a will of steel. 

_Oh, who was he kidding._

He groaned, because if he was going to give in, he might as well be dramatic about it. “One of these days I’m going to learn how to say no to you, and then my life will finally be my own again,” he complained. 

Bea just laughed at him. “Whatever you say, darling.”

Let it never be said that small towns don’t know how to party. The entire town had showed up for the Tree Lighting Ceremony, families pouring out of their houses to mingle in the town square, children squealing with delight, grandparents admiring the decorations. 

Eliot hung back with Julia and her wife Kady, as their daughter Grace ran on ahead with Teddy. Teddy had bonded instantly with the nine-year-old girl. She was a sweet kid, it made Eliot think of a young Julia, and she had a calming influence on Teddy that he was eternally grateful for. Kady was reserved but not in a way that made you feel like you were imposing, and the few times she had spoken, her sentences had been filled with snark, so Eliot had decided that he liked her too.

 _This felt like home._ The thought shouldn’t have surprised Eliot, but it managed to anyway. When he had dragged Teddy here at Margo’s instruction he had expected...well he wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it wasn’t this. He wasn’t expected to be welcomed back with open arms, calls of hello from people he hadn’t seen in years, enveloping hugs from people he had basically abandoned as soon as he turned eighteen. If he was them he would’ve been angry, he would’ve felt betrayed by the way he had acted, leaving without a trace and cutting off all contact. But instead they acted like they had just been waiting for him to come back, and now he was _here_ and he was _family_ again, and all was right with the world.

He wasn’t expecting to feel that warm glow-y feeling in the pit of his stomach. The one that he associated with grandmother’s hugs, and Bea’s proud smile, and Teddy’s tiny laugh. _Love_.

“You okay?” Julia’s soft voice came from beside him. She must have noticed whatever look his face was making as he thought. He looked down at her concerned face and felt another wave of that warm glow.

“I’m fabulous,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She slid her arm around his waist in response and they walked that way for a bit, Eliot revelling in the closeness.

The group made their way through the various booths and displays, buying christmas cookies and hot chocolate and the children’s request, and elbowed their way into the group of people gathering around the giant evergreen tree that was the main attraction. 

The excited buzz of the crowd got louder and louder as the time drew nearer for the lighting. Teddy was fidgeting as Grace told him a bunch of facts about how big the tree was and how many lights that were on it. Julia was leaning back against Kady who was holding her in that familiar loving way spouses had, and Eliot tried very hard not to feel left out. It wasn’t like him and Mike had ever held each other like that, but it still made him miss having a Someone whom he could hold if he wanted.

“Eliot! Julia!” He turned to see who was calling their names, and his stomach dropped at the same time his heart skipped a beat.

It was Cute Man. _Quentin_. 

Well, technically it was Bea calling their names, but Quentin was with her. They came closer and joined them, and Eliot probably shouldn’t be looking at him as hard as he was, but it was Christmas and he was drinking hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps so really, what was a man to do?

He looked. 

Quentin looked _good_. He was wearing a button down shirt under his coat, and it seemed like it was nowhere near warm enough for how cold the weather was, but it fit him perfectly so Eliot wasn’t going to argue. His floppy hair peeked out from under his beanie, framing his rosy cheeks, and he looked up at Eliot with a shy smile. 

_Fucking hell, it should be illegal to look like that_ , Eliot thought. 

Eliot was about to open his mouth and try to say something, _anything_ , when Teddy beat him to it.

“You were at the bookstore!” It was an observation, not an accusation, and Quentin grinned down at the boy.

“I was,” he confirmed. “I’m Mr. Q! And you were the boy with the Fillory and Further book.”

Teddy’s eyes grew wide. “You’ve read Fillory and Further?” he asked.

“Only the entire series, at least four times!” Quentin gestured in a way that said _well obviously_. “They’re my favorite books in the whole world! Have you started reading it yet?”

Teddy’s head was going to fall right off, with as fast as he was nodding it. “Yeah! I just got to the part where Jane and Martin made it to Fillory, but then we had to come here.”

Quentin’s smile was genuine and not patronizing like most adults were when talking to a seven year old. “Wait ‘til you get to the Hobby Horse, that’s the best part!”

Eliot needed to do something, right away, because this beautiful man was bonding with his child and it was making his insides twist up in the most beautiful way. Thankfully they were interrupted by the screech of the microphone being turned on and the mayor walking on stage. They all scooched closer together as the crowd inched forward, and Eliot found himself pressed up against Quentin’s side, not minding in the slightest. 

“Hello, Hopewell!” the mayor’s voice rang out clear through the winter air. “Thank you all for coming to our annual Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony. I know it’s a cold one out tonight, folks, and we really appreciate you all showing up for our town.” 

A bitter wind cut through the crowd, and Eliot could feel Quentin shiver. He watched the shorter man draw his shoulders up to brace against the cold. Before he even knew what he was doing, he acted on instinct, unwrapping his own scarf and turning to face Quentin, winding it carefully around the other man’s neck. Quentin looked up at him, surprised.

 _Oh, fuck_. Eliot panicked. _What are you doing? Say something. Explain yourself._

“You looked cold,” he stammered out. He saw Quentin’s eyes soften from surprise into something...else. Something he was scared to name. 

“Thank you,” Quentin said. Eliot let out a chuckle, desperately trying to pull the moment back into something platonic.

“You didn’t exactly dress for the weather, you know,” he pointed out. Quentin ducked his head, smiling. Eliot’s hands were still on the scarf, and Quentin’s movement caused Eliot’s thumb to brush against his neck. Eliot’s throat seized up, hyper aware of the point where they connected.

“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing you were here then,” the smaller man teased, glancing up at Eliot through long eyelashes. 

_Is he flirting with me?_ Eliot thought. _Is that what’s happening here?_

The mayor’s voice came crackling over the speakers again, startling them. “Well, I’m not gonna make everyone wait any longer, let’s flip this switch and get this tree lit up!”

The two men turned away from each other to watch the tree, and the pause gave Eliot a moment to remember all the reasons why getting involved with someone right now was a monumentally bad idea. The most important reason was currently standing in front of him, about three and a half feet tall and staring up at the tree with wide eyes. He couldn’t do that to Teddy.

There was a snap of electricity and the tree lit up. The lights twinkled amongst the branches, reflecting off the ornaments, and bathing the crowd in a beautiful warm glow. Maybe it was the schnapps talking, or maybe it was the headiness of being looked at by a beautiful boy, but Eliot could almost be persuaded to call it magical.

He felt Quentin turn back towards him and he panicked. He had to get out of there before he got lost in the shorter man’s eyes again and lost his resolve. 

“Well, we’ve had a very long day and I should really be getting Teddy to bed,” he found himself saying. “You guys have a great night, we’ll see you later.” 

He herded Teddy towards the car, silencing his protests with A Look. This was for the best. It had to be.

Teddy climbed into the car and buckled himself in quietly. The sugar rush was wearing off for both of them, and as tired as he was, the little boy had to be twice as so. Eliot buckled himself in and turned the key, but only a ticking noise came out. 

"Fuck."

"That's a bad word."

Eliot sighed and leaned his head against the steering wheel. "I know, buddy."

He jolted upright when he heard knuckles tapping on the drivers side window. It was Quentin, looking in with a worried expression. Eliot cursed his luck and plastered a smile on his face, opening the door to talk. 

“Won’t start, huh?” Quentin asked. When Eliot nodded, he gestured towards the hood. “If you wanna pop it, I can take a look for you.” 

_A man full of surprises_ , Eliot thought. He pulled the release, stepping out of the car to look at the engine with Quentin. “So how does a fourth grade teacher know how to fix cars?” he asked. 

Quentin’s fingers moved around the parts of the car, touching and twisting things that Eliot didn’t even know the name of. “Well, I mean, I’m not a mechanic or anything,” he explained. “I used to tinker with my dad’s old pick-up truck. I kind of have a knack for finding out what’s wrong with things.” 

He grinned over his shoulder at Eliot, and the sight made his heart skip a beat. “My dad used to tell me my Hogwarts House would have been Minor Mending,” he said. Eliot’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“That makes no sense,” he said. Quentin straightened up with a laugh, wiping his hands on his coat.

“I know,” he chuckled. “I think it was his parental attempt at being relatable.” Eliot couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, and ducked his head to try and hide it. “Anyway, um, it’s your spark plug, it’s just fizzed out. Easy fix.”

Eliot nodded, pulling out his phone. “Right! Great. I’ll just call a tow.” He stopped when he noticed Quentin was chuckling and shaking his head. “What?” he asked.

“It’s a small town, Eliot,” his smile took all the harsh out of his words. “We only have one tow, and I passed him on the way out, he’s in no shape to drive. Come on, I’ll drive you guys home and you can worry about getting it fixed tomorrow.”

Eliot considered, looking at Teddy who was fading fast. _One drive home won’t hurt._

“That’d be great, thank you.”

They made it home without incident, and Eliot said a quick but sincere thank you to Quentin before hurrying Teddy into the house.

The _freezing cold_ house.

Eliot wanted to bang his head against a wall, or cry, or possibly both. The real estate agent had mentioned something about a faulty heater and naturally it had to act up on their first night here. He heard little feet pitter-patter behind him and turned in time to see Teddy go flying back out the front door.

“Theodore!” Eliot rushed after him. By the time he made it off the porch Teddy was already leaning on the drivers side door of Quentin’s car, who surprisingly hadn’t left already. 

“Mr. Q, the house is cold ‘cause our heater is broken. Can you minor mend that too?” Teddy’s voice was hopeful. Eliot hadn’t even realized he’d been listening to their conversation earlier. 

“Let’s take a look,” Quentin smiled softly at the kid. Eliot was about to protest and say that they’d figure something else out, he doesn’t need to burden himself more, but he was already out of his car and Teddy was dragging him towards the front door and Eliot must have been a saint in a previous life to deserve Quentin Coldwater as his guardian angel. 

The three of them clunked their way to the basement. Quentin grabbed the toolbox sitting on the table and disappeared behind the ancient heater. A few minutes and several suspicious clanging noises later, the system whirred to life as hot air started flowing again. Teddy cheered and threw his arms around one of Quentin’s legs when he re-emerged. 

“Thank you, Mr. Q! You’ve got fixing magic!” he said. Quentin ruffled his hair with a fond smile. 

“Alright, Theodore, time for bed,” Eliot said. It was a testament to how tired the boy was that he didn’t complain. “Go get ready, I’ll be up in a bit.”

Eliot led Quentin back up the stairs to the main floor, pausing awkwardly in the hallway. It didn’t feel right to just send him away, but offering him a drink seemed too forward. Suddenly he remembered the box of christmas cookies he and Teddy had bought earlier in town.

“Would you like a cookie?” he blurted out, and realized how stupid it sounded as soon as he said it. _Too late now_.

Quentin didn’t seem to mind. He gave a surprised laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’d love a cookie.” 

He followed Eliot into the kitchen and picked a cookie from the box with more enthusiasm than any grown-up should admit to. Eliot gave him a fond look. How was it possible he was fond of this man already when he had known him less than 24 hours?

“Thank you again,” he said. “For the ride, and the furnace, and everything.” 

“You’re welcome.” Quentin set down his cookie, a thoughtful look on his face. “You, um, you seemed in a pretty big hurry to leave earlier, I was worried I did something wrong?”

“No!” Eliot reassured him quickly. “No, nothing wrong, I just…” he trailed off. In the morning he would blame the confession on the schnapps, even though he knew it had worn off an hour ago. “Stupidly truthful moment? I’m very good at running away.”

The kitchen was quiet. When he dared to look up he expected to see pity, but instead he was met with understanding and what might have been admiration if you believed that sort of thing could be directed at you, which Eliot didn’t. 

“Stupidly truthful moment?” Quentin replied. “I’m very good at hiding from things.” He gave Eliot a soft smile. 

Eliot felt something blossom in his chest, a beginning, a _possibility_. “We make quite the pair,” he teased.

Quentin grinned. “Yeah, we do.”

Eliot would have been happy to stay in that kitchen like that forever, but he did have a kid upstairs and his body was determined to remind him how tired he was. Quentin must have picked up on it, because he finished his cookie and headed to the door. Eliot followed him, not quite ready to say goodbye yet.

“I’ll let you guys get some sleep.” Quentin paused in the doorway, looking up into Eliot’s face with a terrifyingly open expression. “Goodnight, Eliot.”

“Goodnight, Quentin.” The shorter man gave him another one of those small smiles that he was certain was going to permeate his dreams tonight, and slipped out the door.

Eliot closed it behind him and leaned his forehead against it. 

He was totally and royally _fucked_.

Quentin spent the entire drive home thinking about Eliot. 

He thought about the way the corner of his mouth twitched up when he was being witty. He thought about the way his eyes softened when he looked at Teddy. He thought about the way Eliot said his name, _Quentin_ , like it was a fine wine and he wanted to savor the taste of it in his mouth. He spent a long time just thinking about Eliot’s mouth. 

Okay, so it was possible Quentin had developed a teeny tiny insignificant crush. It was fine. He was _fine_. 

At home, he sat down in front of his computer and his empty word document and stared at the blinking cursor, begging the words to come. But, like every time he had done this for the past three years, the words were nowhere to be found. So instead, he called his dad.

“Hey, Curly Q!” Despite the cancer, his dad’s voice still sounded strong. 

“Hey, Dad, how’re you feeling?” He leaned back in his chair, the sound of his dad’s voice soothing a tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying. He closed his eyes and listened to him tell him about his day and somebody at work who was being a jackass. He only opened them when he realized his dad had been quiet for a bit.

“So what’s got you all quiet tonight?” his dad asked. “You wanna tell me about it?” 

Quentin spun in his chair for a second, wondering how to voice everything his brain had gone through that day. 

“I think I might have possibly met someone today,” he finally said.

“And you’re feeling guilty about it.” It was a statement, not a question. His dad knew him. 

“A little, yeah,” he sighed. His dad was quiet for a minute, gathering his words.

“You’re a loyal man, son. I’ve always been proud of you for that,” he said. “You’re not disrespecting her memory by moving on.” 

Quentin was silent. In some part of his brain, he knew his dad was right, but it still hurt to think about.

“You loved her. And she loved you. And nothing that ever happens is going to erase that. But it’s not fair to you to be tied to a ghost forever. You deserve to be happy and move on with someone else. She would’ve wanted that for you.”

Quentin sighed. _Why does everything have to be so painful and complicated?_ he thought. 

“You hear me?” his dad asked gently.

“Yeah, I hear you,” Quentin said. 

“I love you, Curly Q.”

“I love you too, dad.”

They talked for a bit longer before Ted got too tired and had to hang up. Quentin sighed and closed his laptop. His dad always had a knack for saying the thing you needed to hear, even if it wasn’t the thing you wanted to hear. Talking to his dad never ceased to make him feel better.

If you asked Quentin, Ted Coldwater was the one with the magic.


	3. O, Christmas Tree

Teddy had found his new favorite spot in the whole world, and Eliot couldn’t really blame him, seeing as it had been his favorite spot too when he was that age. They’d been in Hopewell exactly three days now, and every single morning had started with Teddy stumbling down the stairs, still in his pajamas, and asking to go to The Book Bea. After a couple of half hearted excuses the first day, Eliot had given up on trying to find something else for them to do. Bea was overjoyed to be able to spend time with them and had an endless list of things that needed to be done around the store. 

They finished breakfast and headed over, Teddy running off as soon as they were through the door, finding some corner to curl up in and read. Bea welcomed Eliot the way she always did, with a cup of coffee and a cart of books to reshelve. It was becoming an odd sort of habit for them, but Eliot found himself not minding at all. Teddy was happy, Bea was happy, and Eliot? Well, Eliot was enjoying this a bit too much. He knew that this was just a holiday and that they would have to return to New York, and he knew that the more Teddy and himself got attached to this place and these people, the harder it would be to leave. And yet, he couldn’t manage to keep his distance. Every day he spent puttering around the book store, it felt less like a holiday and more like home. 

He finished shelving the last of the books on his cart and returned to the front desk to find Bea standing with her arms crossed, regarding the front bay window with a critical eye. She looked so displeased it was almost comical.

“Is it the window in particular you’re glaring at?” he asked. “Or has the entire wall offended you?”

Bea huffed at him, and gestured at the meager decorations that were laid out. “All the shops on Main Street are supposed to create these picturesque window displays for the Christmas Extravaganza next weekend, but I haven’t got a clue where to start!” 

Eliot wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “And you didn’t think to ask me? Your resident genius in all things spectacular?” 

Bea looked up at him in surprise. “But you’ve already done so much! You’ve been reshelving and you hung those new pictures yesterday…”

Eliot cut her off with a wave of his hand. “And I’ve been bored out of my mind without a project. Please let me do this for you?” Bea squeezed him happily as a yes.

The first order of business, of course, was to find a tree for the window. The christmas tree farm was in the same place Eliot remembered. He kept a firm grip on Teddy’s hand to keep him from vanishing into the endless rows of pine trees. 

“Papa, let’s get one of the really big ones!” Teddy leaned against his grip, dragging him over towards the tallest row of towering fir trees. 

“It has to fit in the window, Teddy Bear, let’s try one of these ones over here,” Eliot said, guiding him towards the more reasonably sized trees. They meandered down the rows, hand in hand, inspecting each tree and debating it’s display potential. It had been way too long since he and Teddy had had this sort of one-on-one time and it felt good to spend time with his son. When Mike had first talked him into adopting, he had been so nervous, but as soon as he held that tiny bundle in his arms, nothing else mattered. Now he couldn’t imagine his life without Teddy in it. Becoming a dad was the best thing that ever happened to him.

They finally decided on the perfect tree and called over an attendant to have it wrapped up. The attendant came over and Eliot had a moment to think that the beanie the man was wearing looked awfully familiar before he was in front of them and Eliot’s heart was jumping with recognition. 

“Mr. Q!” Teddy squealed.

“Mr. Theodore,” Quentin answered back. “Are you guys getting a christmas tree for your house?”

“No, it’s for Mrs. Bea’s bookstore,” Teddy said absentmindedly, already turning to ask Eliot his next question. “Papa, can we get one for the house too? And put it in front of the big window?” 

“One tree at a time, Teddy Bear, let’s get this one set up first, okay?” Eliot said. Teddy’s face fell, but he quickly perked up when Quentin pointed out where he could help Kady wrap the tree in netting, running off to join her.

“Is it common in Hopewell for teachers to also sell christmas trees?” Eliot asked, one eyebrow raised. Quentin grinned at him.

“This is Kady’s first year running the farm by herself. I mean, she always helped her dad out, but, um, he passed away last year,” he explained. “It’s been an adjustment for her, doing everything herself, so I’ve been coming by most days after school gets out, just to give her a hand.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Eliot said. He couldn’t imagine going through that sort of trouble for anyone, and yet Quentin shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. 

“Julia’s basically my sister, so Kady’s family, you know?”

Eliot didn’t know. Eliot desperately wanted to know. _What must it be like to have a family that would do anything for you?_

“Wait, you know Julia?” he asked, realizing what the other man had said.

“Yeah, we’ve been best friends since we were kids! We used to live across the street from each other, went to the same schools all our lives, even college. She used to come out here every christmas, that’s how she met Kady, and she moved out here to be with her. I moved here too a couple years ago, after…” Quentin trailed off, sadness crossing his face. “Well, I just needed a change.” 

It felt like this strange glimpse into another world. He could see it in his mind; tiny childhood Julia, who he could remember so vividly, running across the street to play with a tiny Quentin. Tiny Quentin looked adorable in his mind, all chubby cheeks and floppy hair, and the thought had no right making him feel this warm and fuzzy inside. Julia had never mentioned Quentin, but neither of them had ever talked about friends back home, mostly because Eliot didn’t have any and he suspected Julia didn’t want to make him sad. He made a mental note to hug her next time he saw her. 

“Julia’s the best,” he said fondly. “I used to come here for Christmas as a kid too, we would spend the holiday break causing mischief together.” It felt strange talking about back then. He’d never shared his memories of Hopewell with anyone before, but Quentin felt safe. 

“That sounds like her,” Quentin laughed. He nodded towards where Kady was working. “Kady’s been good for her, keeping her out of too much trouble.”

The two men watched Kady interact with Teddy as they wrapped the tree. Clad in flannel and surrounded by trees, she seemed exactly in her element. 

“It suits her,” Eliot said. “The whole lumberjack thing.” 

“Yeah, it’s been the perfect job for her,” Quentin said, a grin spreading across his face. “She spends most of her time not having to deal with people and she gets to swing a sharp axe at things when she’s pissed off.” 

It was such an unexpected remark that Eliot really couldn’t be blamed for his response, which was giggling like a school kid. He quickly composed himself, clearing his throat and wrangling his face back into something resembling respectability. He glanced at Quentin out of the corner of his eye. The smaller man was grinning from ear to ear, and everything in his face screamed mischief. 

_Sweet merciful Jesus_ , Eliot thought. _That’s it. I’m gone._ It was like someone had personally crafted Quentin Coldwater just to fuck with him. He was perfect, and everything Eliot discovered about the man just made him even better. He was cute, and a nerd, and great with Teddy, and a fucking _brat_. 

Quentin looked up at him, and his face was so open and happy it took Eliot’s breath away. He looked at Eliot like nothing else existed in this moment, like they lived in a bubble where it was just the two of them and stupid jokes and a promise of _something_ in the air, close enough they could have it, if only one of them would reach out and touch it. Eliot opened his mouth to say something stupid like ‘ _go out with me_ ’ or ‘ _can I kiss you_ ’, but before he could get any words out Quentin’s phone rang, shattering the moment. 

“Sorry,” he apologized before answering it. “Hey, Josh, what’s...you did what? Oh my god, okay, I’m on my way.” 

Eliot had to stop himself from reaching out and pressing his fingers to where Quentin’s brow was furrowed with worry. _Okay, Waugh, you need to get your fucking shit together_. He swallowed hard and made himself take a step back. 

“Sorry, my friend is...an idiot,” Quentin gestured vaguely with one hand. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you later?” 

Eliot couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a question, but Quentin sounded hopeful. “I’m sure we’ll run into each other again, it’s a small town.” He was aiming for nonchalant, but the sentence had come out downright cold, and he could see Quentin wince before hiding it behind a carefully composed face. 

He felt a stab of pain in his gut from seeing the reaction he had caused in the smaller man, and tried to smooth things back to what they had been with a smile. “Go save your friend, Quentin,” he said. “I’ll tell Kady you had to leave.” Quentin nodded his thanks and left. 

Eliot was left with a sour taste in his mouth, and a confusion as to why it was there. He used to pride himself on his permanent cold shoulder and his air of indifference to everyone and everything. Back in high school, and even when he was with Mike, he had worn the title Stone Cold Bitch like a crown. It was like an armor he wore to protect himself from ever getting hurt, but then despite everything he had gotten hurt anyway, all his armor chipped away like ice until only a broken, lonely man remained. Now that he tried putting that armor back on, he found it didn’t quite fit. He found he didn’t want to be aloof and distant anymore, that game wasn’t fun anymore, and he was just too tired. 

_Christ, I do believe I might actually be growing as a person_. Wasn’t that a terrifying notion?

Quentin made his way through the crowds of people setting up Christmas Land in the town square. It was a hit every christmas season, with different holiday themed activities for kids and grown-ups to do, and at the very center was the main attraction, Santa Claus himself. This year, Santa was being played by Quentin’s coworker and fellow teacher, Josh Hoberman. Or at least that had been the plan. 

“Quentin, dude!” Josh called out from where he was sitting on a stack of boxes. His leg was propped up and someone had fashioned a makeshift ice pack which was resting on his ankle. 

“What did you do?” Quentin asked. He was fond enough of his friend, but he had a habit of getting himself in trouble, and it always seemed to be Quentin who had to be the one to get him out of it. 

“I was helping to move the sleigh and I slipped on a patch of ice,” Josh said. “My ankle’s totally fucked, man, no way these kiddo’s want to see Santa in a leg cast.” 

Quentin sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. “And what am I supposed to do about that, Josh?”

“Be Santa!” Quentin shook his head and Josh rushed on before he could come up with an excuse. “Come on, you’re great with kids, you’ll be a natural! It’ll be your good deed for, like, a whole year.”

Quentin still looked hesitant, but he wasn’t saying an outright no. Josh tugged on his arm and turned him so he could see the kids already lining up to tell Santa their Christmas lists. Quentin looked at their tiny happy faces and knew he was a goner. 

“Look at them, Q,” Josh said. “It’s only for one more week, you’re gonna break their little hearts if you say no.” 

Quentin let out a groan and picked up the Santa costume from where it was sitting next to Josh. “Fine! But you owe me, Hoberman.” 

He turned to go find the makeup team and get Claus-ified, ignoring a grinning Josh calling out after him. “You’re a good man, Coldwater!”

Decorations for the window display at The Book Bea were coming along marvelously. Eliot was entirely in his element, he had found boxes of Victorian decorations in the attic of his grandmother’s house, and combined with Bea’s own boxes of antique decorations he had more than enough supplies to create a masterpiece. 

Teddy had eagerly helped out until his child’s attention span wore out, which was roughly around the time Julia swung by and dropped off Grace, asking if Bea could watch her for an hour so she could get some Christmas shopping done. Bea had agreed immediately, and the two kids had run off to read books together. 

“Saved your shopping until kind of late,” Eliot teased. He was kneeling on the floor in front of the big bay window, surrounded by endless boxes of decorations and art supplies. 

“I know, but with Kady at the farm all the time, I always have Grace with me, and you know what it’s like trying to shop with a kid that age,” Julia said. Eliot laughed, nodding his head in agreement. “I just wish there were more things for her to do, you know? Something I could drop her off for, and have some time to myself without having to worry about what she’s doing or if she’s okay.” 

Eliot hummed in acknowledgement as he untangled strings of christmas lights. Julia left to do her shopping and Eliot found himself watching the children read their books to each other. Julia’s words echoed in his head and his brain started whirling with ideas. Eliot had always had a skill for planning events, something would spark an idea in his mind and the next thing he knew, he had everything figured out down to the tiniest details.

“I know that look.” Bea’s voice pulled him out of his reverie. “My answer is yes.”

“Yes to what?” Eliot frowned, looking up at her from his seat on the floor. 

“To whatever it is you’re planning.” Eliot shook his head at her and scoffed. “I mean it!” she protested. “Whatever’s got those wheels turning in your head, it’s going to be spectacular.” 

Eliot considered her with a careful eye. He hadn’t truly planned on actually putting his idea into action, but Bea looked serious. _Why not?_ he thought. 

“What do you think of a holiday book club for the kids?” he asked. “Julia mentioned wanting something she could drop Grace off to do, and I’m sure there are other parents who feel the same.” His face lit up and he got more animated as the idea really took hold in his mind. “We could tell them all to bring their favorite holiday book, take turns reading them out loud, have some themed crafts for them to make, and if they find a new favorite book they love, we could have them on a table ready to be bought! Maybe even a stack of grown-up holiday books too, for the parents who pick them up after.” 

Bea looked at him with a mixture of fondness and pride. “Spectacular, indeed.”

He felt his face heat up as he blushed, ducking his face to hide his pleased smile.

“You just let me know whatever you need to make it happen, okay?” Bea leaned over to drop a kiss on top of his head. She smoothed a stray curl out of his face with a gentle hand. “I’m glad you’re back, Eliot.” 

“Me, too,” Eliot said softly. He started planning in earnest, while continuing to set up the window display. He was grinning like a fool the entire time, too excited about everything to try and keep his composure. He supposed he was allowed to look like a fool at Christmas. _Composure is overrated anyway._

  
Most seven year old kids have a vivid imagination, and Teddy Waugh was not a normal seven year old, so his imagination was light years ahead of other kids his age. But even he could get bored sometimes. Now was such a time.

“Papa, I’m booooooored,” he whined, leaning on his dad’s leg. He loved this book store, but he’d been cooped up in it all day and needed to see something else besides these four walls. 

“Have you tried standing on your head?” Eliot’s voice was muffled from where it was craned behind a shelf trying to plug in some lights. 

Teddy cocked his head as he considered actually trying to stand on his head, before dismissing the idea to try later at home. “I wanna go to Santa’s Village! Grace said Santa’s really there and I gotta tell him what I want for Christmas.” 

Eliot’s head reappeared, considering his son. “Is Grace going with you?” he asked. 

Teddy nodded. “Yeah, and we’ll be super good, and not bother anyone. Please, Papa?”

“Okay, but keep an eye on your watch, I want you back here in an hour, understand?” Teddy quickly assured he would and ran off to tell Grace the good news.

The two children were beyond caught up in the christmas spirit. Grace led the way, dragging Teddy along to all of her favorite sights, both of them chattering about Santa and Christmas and presents they were hoping to get. They found the queue to talk to Santa and they waited impatiently in line for their turn. Grace went first, ‘because I’m older, Teddy’, and the little boy bounced on his feet with excitement while Grace described the chemistry set she wanted in great detail. Finally she was done and it was his turn.

He bounded up and practically launched himself onto Santa’s lap, making the man laugh as he caught the boy and situated him so he was balanced. 

“Well, hello there, young man! And what’s your name?” Santa asked. Teddy peered up at the eyes peeking out from between the red hat and the beard. He thought Santa’s voice sounded familiar, but that was probably because he had talked to him last Christmas.

“I’m Theodore Waugh! Last year, when I saw you, I was in New York, but this year I’m here, so you gotta make sure to bring my presents to the right house, okay Santa?” His brow furrowed as he made sure that Santa understood this very important piece of information.

“I will make sure I go to the right house, I promise,” Santa chuckled. “So what is it you want for Christmas, Theodore?” 

Teddy shifted closer so he made sure Santa could hear him. He had thought about this all last night and had decided he only wanted one thing for Christmas. “For Christmas, I want Papa to be happy again,” he said, very clearly and carefully, just like he did his birthday wishes every year. 

Santa froze, staring at him, and under his beard his mouth had fallen open. Maybe Santa hadn’t understood him. He should explain.

“Well, you see, Santa, Papa hasn’t been happy for a long time, he hasn’t made me mickey mouse pancakes for forever, and he doesn’t even want to put up a Christmas tree in our new house and Papa loves Christmas trees!” He paused to take a deep breath. “And I don’t know how to make him happy ‘cause I’m just a kid, and I tried giving him the last christmas cookie but that didn’t help. But you’re a grown-up, so maybe you can help!” 

He looked up at the older man hopefully. Santa’s eyes were all shiny and bright like he was gonna cry, but that was stupid because Santa doesn’t cry. The man sniffled and hugged Teddy to his chest. 

“I’ll tell you what, Theodore,” Santa said. “I will do everything I can to make your Papa happy, okay? And you keep being a good boy, because I know you make him very happy.”

Teddy grinned, legs kicking happily, confident that Santa would fix everything. “Okay, Santa! Thank you!” He wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, giving him a quick hug before hopping off his lap and finding Grace to head back to the store. 

Eliot tried to focus on washing dishes and not eavesdropping on the phone conversation between Teddy and Mike that was happening at the dining room table. Maybe he had been washing the same plate for ten minutes, but whatever, at least they’d be clean. 

When Mike and him had separated, Eliot had made the other man promise that he would call their son. It wouldn’t be fair to the child to make him suffer because his parents had decided to split up. Listening to his tiny voice now, however, it sounded like he was suffering anyway. 

Mike’s calls had been getting more and more infrequent, and when he did call he was distracted or frustrated and always cut their conversations short. Right now, Teddy was trying to tell him about the book store but Eliot could tell his heart wasn’t in it. 

A wave of hatred for Mike swept over Eliot. Mike could treat Eliot however he wanted, El was an adult, but he had no right to act like that towards his son. 

“Do you have to go already, Daddy?” Teddy asked, his face falling. It made Eliot’s heart break. He dried his hands and came over to crouch down by his chair, ready to take the phone after their goodbyes. 

“Yeah, okay,” Teddy sighed. “I will. I love you, Daddy. Bye.” Eliot took the phone gently from his hand. The small boy’s head hung dejectedly. Eliot wished for the millionth time that he could protect him from all of this. 

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the boy’s temple, lingering for a second as his son leaned into him for comfort. “I love you, Teddy Bear,” he whispered into the child’s hair. 

They both jumped when the doorbell rang. Teddy looked up at him in confusion and he shrugged. They weren’t expecting any company tonight. Eliot went to open the front door, Teddy hanging behind him. The door swung open with a gust of breeze revealing none other than Quentin Coldwater, hauling a giant christmas tree. 

“Mr. Q!” Teddy squealed, sliding out from behind Eliot’s legs. Eliot could only stand there gaping at the sight before him. Quentin was all bundled up, cheeks flushed from carrying the tree, and Eliot just wanted to unwrap him like a present. 

“You guys didn’t have time to get a tree for yourself the other day, so I thought I’d bring a tree to you!” Quentin explained, half out of breath. His eyes met Eliot’s with a hint of nervousness. “I hope that’s okay?”

“It’s more than okay, Quentin, it’s...you didn’t...thank you.” Very rarely was Eliot at a loss for words, but apparently cute men bearing christmas trees would cause it. 

“Come on, Mr. Q, it’s gotta go in the living room!” Teddy grabbed Quentin’s free hand, pulling him into the house. Quentin laughed, letting himself be dragged inside, throwing an apology over his shoulder at Eliot for any snow he might have dragged in. Eliot followed them, watching fondly as Quentin showed the boy how to settle the trunk in the stand he had also brought and screw it in place. 

He stood up dusting pine needles off his gloves. “Alright, well I’ll let you guys get back to your evening.”

Teddy’s face fell again. “You’re not gonna help us decorate it?” 

Quentin’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, well, I...your dad...um,” he babbled, looking to Eliot, eyes hopeful.

Teddy’s face was incentive enough for Eliot to ask Quentin to stay. Not to mention the way his own heart was screaming at him to spend time with the smaller man and see if he could make his eyes sparkle again. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s bad luck to put up a Christmas tree and not decorate it,” he said, stepping forward and reaching to unwrap the scarf from around the other man’s neck. 

Quentin looked up at him with a shy smile. “Well we can’t have any bad luck.” 

Eliot helped Teddy pull out their remaining boxes of decorations while Quentin shucked off his coat and hat. Teddy handed a string of christmas lights to Quentin and the two of them started wrapping them around the tree. Teddy was back to being his normal happy self, chattering away at Quentin, whose hair was sticking up in ten different directions from being in a beanie all night. It was the most wholesome thing Eliot had ever seen, and everything in him was screaming _family_ and _mine_. 

_Fuck it, if we’re gonna have a Hallmark Moment, we might as well commit_ , Eliot thought. He connected his phone to the speaker system and soon the house was echoing with the sounds of Burl Ives singing about snowmen. 

As much as he wanted to just stand there and watch, he was afraid his face would betray his emotions, so he picked up a box of ornaments and started helping. Despite having only known each other for a few days, Quentin and Eliot fell into an easy banter. It almost felt like they had known each other in a previous lifetime, and had simply found each other again in this one. 

When Eliot slipped up and called him ‘Q’ once, the smile Quentin had given him had made him warm all the way down to his toes. He knew it was too much too soon, but the irrational part of his brain wanted to swoop the other man into his arms and promise to spend the rest of his life making him smile like that. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to ask the smaller man out though, he reasoned. Maybe Bea was right and he really was ready. From what he could tell the other man was into him as well. _What’s the worst that could happen?_

The three finished their decorating and sat on the couch, admiring their handywork, Teddy happily sandwiched between the two men. The tree was tilted slightly to the left and there were way more decorations on the bottom half than on the top, but Eliot couldn’t be happier. 

“I think that’s the best tree I have ever seen in my entire life,” Quentin said, ruffling Teddy’s hair as the little boy giggled. Eliot waited until Teddy yawned and then urged him upstairs into bed, leaving him and Quentin alone on the couch. 

The two men sat in silence for a moment, admiring the twinkling of the tree lights in the darkening room. “Thank you,” Eliot said softly, not wanting to break the soft feeling that had come over the two of them. 

“For what?” Quentin’s voice was equally soft, turning his face to look at Eliot. 

“Being you. Bringing us a tree. All of the above.” There had to be something in the air because Eliot wanted to spill all of his secrets to this beautiful man sitting on his couch. “We’ve had a rough couple of months, but you make it feel like it’s starting to get better.”

There was that smile again, spreading across Q’s face like sunshine. “I like spending time with you, El,” he whispered. Whatever was in the air must have been affecting Quentin too. “And Teddy too, that kid is amazing. But...yeah. I really like you.” Eliot watched a blush rise in the smaller man’s face, and didn’t stop himself from reaching out and gently grazing his cheek with one finger. 

“I really like you too,” he whispered. He could feel something electric crackling in the air between them, and for once it made him excited instead of terrified.

“Papa, I’m ready for bed!” Teddy’s voice came from upstairs. “Come tuck me in!”

Eliot rolled his eyes at the interruption and Quentin chuckled. “I think that’s my cue to leave,” he said. 

Eliot walked him to the door. “Hey, we’re having a kids book club at the store on Saturday, you should swing by. Teddy would love to see you.” He took a step forward, putting himself very much in Quentin’s personal space. “I would love to see you.”

Q leaned forward so their chests were almost touching. If Eliot wanted to he could have leaned down and kissed him, and oh how he wanted to, but he knew that was too much for right now. 

“I’ll be there,” Q said. “I promise.”

Quentin shut the door behind him, flipping on the lights to his small apartment. His skin was buzzing from everything that night, like there was energy beneath his skin that needed to be let out. He bounced on his heels, vibrating with a need to do _something_. His gaze fell on his laptop. 

_Maybe?_ He thought. _Was it possible?_ He took his seat, opening his laptop to the blank document that had been taunting him for months, and began typing. 

For the first time in almost three years, the words flowed from his fingertips. The block was broken. 


	4. A Tale of Christmas Past

The Kid's Holiday Book Club at The Book Bea was a roaring success. Parents and children had shown up almost an hour ahead of time to make sure they got a spot, and Eliot had ended up needing to move a couple tables to make sure they had enough room. He had worried they would have to turn people away due to it only being him guiding the kids, but then Julia had offered to stay and help, like the angel that she was. The parents had been thrilled to have an hour to themselves and the children were having the time of their lives. 

Eliot and Julia were supervising the children as they created book themed crafts. Well, Julia was supervising. Eliot was trying not to get distracted every time the door chimed, hoping it was a certain floppy haired man who had promised to be there. 

As the event wound to a close, Eliot was torn between emotions, trying to figure out how he felt. On the one hand, he was thrilled that the day went so well. The parents were smiling and cooing over their kids art projects, everyone had a stack of books they were buying, and Bea was smiling from ear to ear and wishing everyone a merry christmas. On the other hand, however, Quentin never showed up, he never texted to say why or that he wouldn't make it, and Eliot hated how let down he it made him feel. He knew that he shouldn't expect anything from a man he basically just met, but that small tender part of his heart was crying _‘but he promised!’._

Thankfully Teddy hadn’t seemed to notice Quentin’s absence. Eliot had hesitated to tell him this morning that Mr. Q might be joining them, not wanting to get his son’s hopes up in case of this very occurrence, but he had risked it and told him anyway. Now Eliot was counting his blessings that the boy was distracted enough by his friends to not register another grown up letting him down. 

_What were you thinking?_ Eliot’s brain was finally being louder than his heart and it was making up for lost time. _Your son just lost his dad and already you want to introduce a new man into his life? And what about yourself? You might have fooled everyone here, but you were at rock bottom before you left New York and you are still barely keeping it together. One blow from anyone and you will crumble into nothing like the weak idiot that you are._

Eliot shook his head, trying to physically clear his head from the intruding thoughts, and started cleaning up the vacated tables. 

_You can’t let a cute smile and pretty eyes make you forget everything that you went through._ The voice persisted. _You thought Mike was cute too at the beginning, before everything. Who’s to say Quentin won’t turn out the same way?_

That small tender part of his heart was back and this time it was screaming _‘but we can trust Quentin!’._

 _Don’t be ridiculous._ His brain drowned out any other part of him. _We can’t trust anyone._

_You’re better off alone._

__

  
Quentin cursed his short legs and out-of-shape lungs as he sprinted down Main Street. He cursed the manager of Santa’s Village, he had _told_ her to tell him when it was two p.m. because he had places to _be_ , dammit. He cursed his phone that had died earlier so he couldn’t even check the time himself. He cursed the stretch of street between Santa’s Village and The Book Bea, which seemed twice as long as it normally was as he booked it towards the store, hoping somehow that Eliot hadn’t left yet so he could explain and apologize. He knew how much it meant to Eliot that he be able to trust him, and he needed Eliot to know that he took that seriously and that Quentin would never hurt him like that, not intentionally. He needed Eliot to _know_.

He burst through the doors to the bookstore, empty except for Bea who was shaking her head at him sadly from behind the counter. He was too late.

“Fuck!”

  
Eliot was doing his best to ignore his aching heart, but it was proving to be increasingly difficult. No matter how much he tried to distract himself or focus on something else, the damn thing kept beating away just under the surface of his skin, chiseling away at his resolve, whispering _‘call him, talk to him, invite him over’_. His brain was doing the brain equivalent of banging pots and pans together to try and drown it out, and it only succeeded in making his heart beat louder. The louder his heart got, the louder his brain got, and they kept egging each other on until the whole thing was giving him a migraine. _Fuck everything_ , he thought. 

He tried to focus on Teddy instead. The boy had seemed okay at the bookstore, but ever since they got home he was quiet and kept staring at Eliot like he was waiting for a lecture or an explanation or something. He hadn’t brought up Mr. Q, but Eliot was convinced he must have realized he didn’t make it to the book club. Eliot figured this was probably something they should talk about, one of those Parenting Moments, but honestly he was too tired for it. He didn’t have the energy to patiently answer all of the questions Teddy was sure to have, so he did the cowardly thing and just ignored the whole situation. _Always running away_ , a nagging voice echoed in his head. 

He rubbed at his temples, unsuccessfully trying to massage the pain and the voice away. He lifted his head as Teddy finished singing a song they had made up together a few christmases ago, some silly thing about reindeer and snowmen. 

“Okay, Teddy Bear, it’s time for bed,” he said. He watched as the little boy deflated in front of him and felt a stab of guilt for not having enough energy to give him tonight. “I’m sorry, buddy, Papa’s just really tired. I’ll sing the reindeer song with you tomorrow, okay?” 

He got his son all situated and tucked into bed, closing the door gently behind him before shooting a text off to Julia quickly before he could overthink it. 

**to: Julia**   
_you still got those bottles of wine?_

He eased his way downstairs, feeling much older than his 35 years when his phone buzzed with a reply.

**from: Julia**   
_hell yeah I do!! be there in 10_

He had just finished digging out two wine glasses and some snacks and putting them on the coffee table when he heard a knock at the door. He opened it to reveal Julia wearing pajamas, a bottle of wine in each hand. 

“You are a goddess,” he said, pulling her inside. 

“Yes I am,” she agreed. “And you are not comfy enough! Go get in your pajamas, we’re having a grown-up sleepover.” 

He grinned, some of the tension already starting to ease out of his shoulders as he followed her instructions. When he got back downstairs she had poured them both a generous glass of wine which were waiting on the table. She was curled up on the couch, hair up in a messy bun and focused look on her face as she attempted to open the tub of cookie dough he had found in the freezer and pulled out for them. 

He had a sudden flashback to their hangouts as teenagers, when they would stay up all night gossiping and dreaming about the future, eating junk food and smoking weed they’d bought with their christmas money. She had been the closest thing he had to a best friend, even though he’d only ever seen her for a couple weeks every christmas. He plopped down on the couch beside her, leaning forward to bury his head in her shoulder, too tired and emotional to stop himself. 

“I’m sorry I cut you out of my life,” he whispered, voice muffled against her pajama top. She stilled beside him, hands freezing on the cookie dough. He let out a shaky breath and she reached up a hesitant hand to brush a stray curl of his hair behind his ear. 

“I missed you, El,” she whispered back. He made himself sit up so he could see her face. She didn’t look judgemental however, just sad and a little curious. “I never did get why you just stopped talking to me.”

Eliot reached over and took the dough from her hands and opened the tub for her, needing to give his hands something to do. He remembered everything like it was yesterday, the beginning of his whirlwind romance with Mike and the fallout it had resulted in. He handed the open tub back to Julia. 

“It was Mike,” he said, voice thready. “I met him right after I turned 18. He was older, and sophisticated, and he _wanted me_ , and I convinced myself that he was the only thing that mattered. When he told me we were moving to New York, I believed he knew what was best for us. For me. I didn’t question it when he told me to cut off everyone from before, I thought it meant he knew who was good for me. Now I can see it was just the first step in him controlling my entire life.”

His voice tapered off, surprising himself with how much he had just shared. He didn’t think he had ever told anyone that, he’d barely even admitted it to himself. He reached for his glass of wine, gulping half of it down quickly. He startled when he felt Julia take his other hand, holding it gently in her own. 

“El, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I had no idea…”

“I made sure _no one_ had any idea,” he said. “I was very careful that all anyone could see from the outside was that picture perfect family. Especially when things started getting really bad, I couldn’t bear the thought that everyone would be able to tell how wrong my life was, that I had messed up so bad. Or, I don’t know, that all of those things my parents told me I deserved, that they’d know I’d actually gotten them all.” 

Julia rubbed her thumb across his hand, comforting. “You know you didn’t deserve any of that, right? It’s not your fault that some asshole took advantage of your love.” 

He nodded, ducking his head, not trusting his voice to speak. He sat still for a moment, just letting himself be comforted by her touch. 

“It got to the point where I couldn’t even recognize myself anymore. Everything about me, about my whole life, it was all _him_. He reached his fingers into every aspect of myself and squeezed out anything he didn’t approve of until all that was left was a hollow shell. I would look at myself in the mirror and I looked like a dead man. I was so broken, Jules.” 

Eliot’s voice broke on her name, a choked sob escaping his lips. Julia scooted closer with a soft noise, wrapping both arms around him tight, leaning her forehead against the side of his head. He felt a dampness on his cheek and he couldn’t tell if it was her tears or his own. He let out a wet laugh.

“Oh god, this is not what I was planning on happening tonight,” he chuckled. “I don’t even know where all of that came from, I’m sorry.” 

Julia’s grip on him tightened and she gave him a shake. “Don’t you dare apologize. I am your friend and I am here for you, okay? It’s good to talk about this, you need to get it out.” 

Eliot reached up to cling at her arm, inhaling a shaky breath. She pulled back, cupping his face in her small hands, wiping away at his tears with her thumbs. 

“You are not alone, Eliot Waugh,” she whispered fiercely. The last tiny bit of hollowness that was left in his chest filled up with love and he felt like a dam had burst. All of the pain and anger and loneliness that had built up in him over that past few years came rushing out. He felt hot tears spilling across his cheeks as his body heaved in sobs he hadn’t even known were waiting to be let out. Julia held him tightly as his body shook, her tiny frame strong against his. Her hands smoothed across his hair and back as she whispered quiet comforts to him as he cried. 

He didn’t know how long he cried for, but afterwards he felt purged, like he had forcibly removed a sickness from inside him. He lay quiet in Julia’s arms, revelling in this newfound feeling of contentment that filled his chest. They had shifted during the time and were now completely entangled on the couch in a full body cuddle. Her hand stilled where it had been gently scratching at his back, and he tilted up his face to meet her eyes. 

“Wine?” they both asked at the same time, causing them both to dissolve into giggles. 

Two hours later, they were well into the second bottle of wine and the cookie dough was almost gone. They had spent the time catching up on anything and everything, talking about people they used to know as kids and things that have changed in town. The conversation had lulled when Julia looked up at him with a knowing look in her eyes. 

“So tell me about you and Q,” she said. Eliot rolled his eyes with an exaggerated sigh. 

“There is no me and Q,” he said petulantly. Julia rolled onto her side so she could study him. 

“But you want there to be,” she pointed out. He side eyed her. 

“Yes. No. I don’t know. You don’t think it’s too soon? For Teddy I mean.” He turned his head to look at her. She gave him a look like she saw straight through his bullshit. 

“I think you’re using Teddy as an excuse for your own fear,” she said bluntly. 

He lifted his head and gaped at her. “Ouch!” 

“Sorry,” she winced. “It’s true though. I’ve seen Teddy, I think he’ll be perfectly fine if you start dating, kids are resilient you know. I think you’re the one who’s afraid of being hurt again.”

Eliot opened his mouth to protest, but realized she maybe sort of kinda had a point. His mouth clacked shut and he frowned at her, unable to come up with a retort. 

“Okay, but listen,” she said, shifting forward. Her eyes focused on his face and he could tell she was being serious. “I know Q. I know he’s a good man. I know the two of you would be perfect for each other. And I also know that he will not do a single thing that makes you feel uncomfortable or rushed into anything. If you tell him you need to take things slow, because of Teddy, or because of you, he’ll do it. He’s got his own baggage, he’s not going to judge you for yours.”

Eliot leaned into her and let her words settle in his mind. 

“Just think about it, okay?” she asked. He finally nodded, telling himself there’s no reason to be scared of the little tiny flame of hope that lit in his chest. 


	5. Cracks in the Armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: discussion of past suicide attempt

It was a fact of the universe that nothing and no one should get in the way of a seven year old on a mission. Teddy was back at Santa’s Village, waiting in line to talk to the big red man. It had worked last time, but it wasn’t quite enough. 

“Well, hello, Mr. Theodore!” Santa cried as Teddy jumped onto his lap when it was his turn.

“Hi, Santa,” Teddy said. His hands twisted in his lap as he tried very hard to remember everything he wanted to say. “Thanks for sending Mr. Q with a christmas tree, it made Papa really happy and he even let us put it up and decorate it!” 

Santa smiled at him, giving him a quick squeeze. “I’m very glad to hear that, Theodore.” 

Teddy nodded. “But it didn’t work, Santa, he’s still sad! We had the book club at Miss Bea’s store and it was super fun, but then we went home and he was really quiet and he didn’t smile at all, not even when I sang the reindeer song and he always laughs at the reindeer song!” 

Santa ran a soothing hand up and down Teddy’s back as he thought about that. “Well, let’s see. What do you think your Papa wants for Christmas? What would make him happy?” 

Teddy chewed on his lip while he thought. “Papa always likes to say that one day he’ll take me to Paris, ‘cause it’s the best place ever. Do you think you can bring him to Paris, Santa?”

Santa chuckled, poking Teddy playfully in the stomach. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to do that, but I promise I will do my best to bring Paris to him, okay kiddo?”

Teddy nodded his head, satisfied. A Santa Promise was as good as law, everyone knew that. If Santa said his papa would have Paris, then that was that. 

Quentin was standing in line at the coffee shop, wracking his brain to figure out the best way to apologize to Eliot and convince him that he was invested in both him and Teddy. He had just finished placing his order when he caught a glimpse of the man himself walking past the shops windows on the way to The Book Bea. He moved before he could think about it, rushing out of the shop to catch him, calling Eliot’s name and causing the taller man to pause as Quentin caught up to him. 

He opened his mouth to speak and realized he hadn’t figured out how he was supposed to apologize yet. 

“Hey,” he breathed out lamely, cringing at himself. Eliot didn’t seem to mind, giving him a soft smile. 

“Hey.” Eliot’s face was carefully composed, but his eyes sparkled at Quentin. 

_Don’t get distracted by his eyes, you came here to apologize._

“I’m sorry!” Quentin blurted out before he could lose track of his thoughts again. “For missing the book club, I mean. I got stuck doing…” he paused. His gut instinct told him not to tell Eliot about the Santa thing, he was worried Eliot would think he was using Teddy to get closer to him, and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. “...doing this favor for a friend and it ran late, and my phone died so I couldn’t call you! And I ran there as soon as it was done, like literally ran, I don’t think I’ve run like that in years, I’m pretty sure I pulled something, but you were already gone, and…”

“Q…” Eliot interrupted him with a soft laugh. “It’s okay. I believe you.” 

Quentin’s whole body relaxed, tension seeping out of him at Eliot’s words. “Oh! Okay. Great. Because I didn’t want you to think I forgot, or I blew you off. I really tried to be there. I wanted to be there.” 

Eliot gave a magnanimous shrug, not diminishing his disappointment, but indicating that he was over it. “Life happens. I get that.” 

Quentin couldn’t accept it at that, however. He could feel that things weren’t back to normal between them yet, and he desperately needed them to be okay. “Let me make it up to you.”

Eliot raised a single eyebrow at him, half curious and half suggestive. Quentin chuckled.

“Let me take you out to dinner,” he clarified. “I owe you, and I know the perfect place.” 

Eliot looked him over as he considered it. Quentin probably should have left it at that, but he was never one for knowing when to stop.

“Please? I hate that I might have fucked things up before they even had a chance to go anywhere.” 

The corners of Eliot’s mouth twitched. “You didn’t fuck things up. Come on, Q, I have a kid, I’m well used to things not going according to plan.”

Quentin breathed a sigh of relief. “So is that a yes?”

“Pick me up at seven,” Eliot declared, swooping away dramatically in a way that was quickly becoming familiar to Quentin. He watched the taller man walk away with fondness. And maybe just a little bit of checking out his ass. He was only human, after all.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t tell me where we’re going,” Eliot pouted. Quentin simply laughed at him from the driver’s seat.

“If I tell you where we’re going, it’ll ruin the surprise!” 

Eliot rolled his eyes, letting out a soft huff of air. He caught Quentin giving him a soft, fond look out of the corner of his eye. “What?” he asked.

“Teddy makes that same noise when he’s upset,” he said quietly. “I hadn’t noticed that before.”

Eliot felt his face warm with a blush. He wasn’t used to someone caring enough to notice small details like that about him. “Where do you think he learned it?” he stammered out. 

He was determined to remain cool and collected for their date, a venture that was surely doomed from the start, judging by the freak out that had occurred when he had tried to get ready earlier. His brain liked to do this nifty little trick where it saw one thing that was wrong and then spiraled completely out of control from there, catastrophizing the worst possible scenario until he was rocking back and forth in a corner. He hated it, but usually Margo was there to pull him out of it. 

He felt weird bothering Margo about this when he hadn’t even told her about Quentin yet, however, so after trying on everything item of clothing that he had in his closet, he had ended up calling Julia in a panic, insisting that nothing he had brought would work, that Quentin was going to take one look at him and walk straight out the door, and that everything was an unmitigated disaster. Julia had just laughed and hung up on him, showing up at his door immediately after. She had picked out an outfit for him while he talked through all his anxieties, and assured him that everything was going to be fine, reminding him that Quentin already liked him. It had managed to keep him calmed down until he had gotten into the car with Q and the younger man had refused to tell him where they were going. 

“Can you at least give me a hint?” he asked.

“I have it on good authority it’s a place you’re gonna like,” Quentin teased.

Eliot fixed him with a calculating look. “Is this ‘good authority’ Julia? Because I love the woman, but her idea of fine dining is Olive Garden.” 

Quentin laughed, eyes crinkling up with amusement. The sight of it soothed Eliot’s nerves somewhat, and he relaxed into his seat. 

“Will you just trust me? We’re almost there.”

Whatever this place was, it required driving into the nearest city. Eliot leaned his head to look out the window, watching the city lights flash by. He was surprised to find he hadn’t missed it. As lovely as it was to look at, he didn’t have the urge to pack up his bags and return to his apartment in New York. Instead, everything reminded him of Hopewell. It had only been a few days, but Hopewell had already replaced New York as _home_ in is heart. 

The car slowed and turned into a parking lot, and Eliot turned eagerly to finally figure out where it was they were going. They were parked in front of a small, short building, tucked in the back behind two larger stores, if you didn’t know it was there you would have driven right past it. The light up sign read _‘ factures de frein’_ and it had a distinctly European air about it that made Eliot’s heart sing. 

He turned to see Quentin watching him with a hopeful smile and felt his face warm again. 

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” he whispered, eyes shining. Quentin’s smile could’ve powered a city block.

Eliot followed Quentin inside, looking around as he gave his name to the hostess. The entire place looked like it had been plucked right off of a street in Paris and transported here. Candles were lit atop warm wooden tables, large art pieces scattered across the exposed brick walls. Everything was soft and elegant, flickering in the candlelight. It was purely magical, and Eliot felt _seen_ to the core of his being.

Mike had taken him to so many fancy places in New York, showing off his own tastes or connections, but he had never been taken to a place that felt so much like _Eliot_. He felt his throat tighten with emotion and swallowed hard to keep it at bay. He felt a gentle touch on the small of his back. He cleared his throat, turning to see Quentin looking up at him with those beautiful eyes that he so desperately wanted to get lost in. 

“You ready?” Quentin asked, voice soft to match the atmosphere. Eliot nodded, not trusting his voice to speak quite yet, and followed the hostess as she led them to their table. Quentin’s hand stayed on his back the entire time, sending shocks of electricity racing up Eliot’s skin. 

They were finally seated, their table nestled away in the corner so they had a modicum of privacy, and Eliot noticed that theirs was the only table with a single red rose in a vase next to the candle. _The Lover’s Table_. It was quite possibly the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for him, and it was their _first date_. Eliot was entirely overwhelmed, in the best way possible. 

_Is this what it’s like in a normal relationship?_ He couldn’t help but wonder. _A partner who cares about your preferences, and intentionally does things just because he knows you’ll like it? I think I could get used to this._ The voice in his head tried to resurface and tell him he didn’t deserve any of that, but for once he was able to squash it down silent, focusing instead on the menu.

More precisely, on the menu Quentin was holding, and the way his hands held the menu, and the way his hands would look holding other things, and... _oh fuck, he’s saying something, pay attention._

“...was worried the menu would be in french too,” Quentin said with a chuckle. 

“I could’ve translated for you if it was, darling,” Eliot said offhandedly, mentally cursing himself for being distracted enough to let slip a pet name. Quentin either didn’t notice or didn’t mind, because he didn’t comment on it. 

“Of course you speak French,” he laughed. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

He knew it was meant as a tease, but the sentence still sent a stab of pain through Eliot’s heart. He had spent years perfecting this persona of himself, the _Spectacular Eliot Waugh_ , a person of culture and wisdom, flawless, without any fears, and who didn’t give a shit what you thought of him. He loved that version of himself, wore it like a suit of armor. It was him, but better. 

The problem with armor though, is that it’s cold and hard. People get so enamored with the façade, they forget that there’s a real person underneath that hard, glossy shell. A person who’s soft and fragile and entirely flawed, a person who just wants someone to look at the real them and say ‘I like this part too. I like every part.’.

He looked up to see Quentin studying him, like Eliot was a puzzle that he was trying to solve.

“What were you thinking just now?” he asked. “You looked worried.”

Eliot liked this boy so much. This quiet, earnest boy, who looked at him like he wanted to see every part, even the messy hurting ones. Like he wouldn’t blame him for being human. _“He’s got his own baggage, he won’t judge you for yours.”_ Julia’s words from last night echoed in his mind. He wanted to open up, to crack the armor around his heart and let Quentin see inside, he wanted it more than anything, but he was so used to his walls that he didn’t know how to begin taking them down. 

“There’s a lot I can’t do,” he finally said. He needed to say something, the silence had gone on too long. “In fact I’m afraid you’re going to discover I’m quite a flawed individual.” He tried to make his voice trivial and careless, and missed by a mile. 

His stomach was clenching up, his hands were sweaty, and he felt like he wanted to run away and hide. Is this what being vulnerable felt like? No wonder no one liked doing it. 

Quentin laid down his menu, considering him. He wasn’t brushing it off or taking it as flirting, which Eliot was grateful for, but that meant that he was going to get a Serious Response. Eliot prepared himself for pity (which he hated) or assurances that it wasn’t that bad (which he hated even more).

“I can’t call a restaurant to make a reservation without writing out an entire script for the interaction in my head,” Quentin said. 

Eliot’s jaw dropped. It was the most unsightly thing he’d done in years, but he was so taken aback by the quiet confession that his mouth actually dropped open in surprise. He quickly shut it.

“I can’t walk into a new shop unless I drive around the block twice first to work up the courage.” Quentin’s posture was relaxed. If he didn’t know better, Eliot would have guessed that these were things he confessed every day, but he had a tight quality to his voice that betrayed that this vulnerability wasn’t easy for him. “I also can’t go to a hospital without having a panic attack in the parking lot.”

Eliot was overcome. He could count the times he had been rendered speechless on one hand, but here he was, sitting in a french restaurant in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere, unable to form a single word. He had cracked open his fragile chest, and instead of judging or running away, Quentin had cracked his own open as well. 

“I don’t think you’re flawless,” Quentin said slowly, choosing each word carefully. “But neither am I, so…” he trailed off. He couldn’t find the words to complete his thought, but Eliot got it. For the first time ever, he had found someone who liked all the parts. 

The waitress came and took their orders, and the two men fell into easy conversation. Something had changed in the air between them, they had each showed their hands and now everything was tinged with intimacy. It was the perfect first date. Their initial confessions had taken off all of the pressure, and now they could just get to know one another. They took their time enjoying their food and each other’s company, finding out likes and dislikes, sharing funny stories, and trying to make the other laugh. 

Quentin talked about his teaching and how he was trying to write his second book. Eliot talked about how he had been an analyst for years and hated it, and how Teddy was the best part of his life. They both knew they were avoiding the Big Topics, but they would have to get there eventually. 

The time came after the waiter had cleared their plates and they sat nursing their wine and waiting for dessert. 

“So,” Quentin said, looking down at his glass of red. “I used to be married.” 

Eliot took a breath. Julia had warned him about Q’s baggage, so he had known there must have been something. He hadn’t realized it was a marriage. He waited for Quentin to continue, figuring it was better to just let him get it all out. 

“Her name was Alice. We got married right after college. She was a molecular biologist, which is a fancy way of saying she was trying to find a cure for cancer.” Quentin gave a painful laugh. “Which made it all the more ironic when she ended up getting cancer herself.” 

He was quiet for a while. Eliot didn’t know how long ago it had happened, but it was clearly still a hard thing for him to think about. He reached a hand across the table, tentatively laying it on Quentin’s. The other man shifted his hand so he could hold Eliot’s, giving him a grateful smile. 

“When she passed away, I was lost. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stay there, in our home, in our city. I couldn’t see it all every day, it reminded me too much of her. So when Julia suggested I move to Hopewell to be near her and Kady, I jumped at the idea.”

Quentin glanced up at Eliot briefly. “I have...depression.” Eliot squeezed his hand in support. Quentin’s voice got stronger. “So my mental state can be pretty fragile sometimes. I was a wreck when I moved here, and I really needed their support.” 

They sat for a moment, holding hands, while Quentin gathered himself. He finally sat up with a smile, withdrawing his hand to take his wine glass again. “So yeah! That’s me. I’ve been here for three years now, and I’m doing a lot better. Your turn.” He took a large gulp of wine, which seemed to steady him. 

Eliot had never seen anyone that brave. Someone who could just lay all of their pain and hurt out for another person to see and claim it with honesty. Quentin wasn’t apologizing for any of it, he was simply saying ‘this is me’. Eliot supposed he could try it too. He cleared his throat.

“Well my story is a bit longer, so I’m just going to give you the bullet points,” he said. “Met a boy. Married the boy. Boy turned out to be abusive sociopath.” Eliot heard his voice crack on the last two words and hated how weak it made it sound. His hand curled into a fist on the table. 

“Adopted Teddy to try and make it better. Didn’t work.” He looked up at Quentin with a fierce look. “Teddy is the best thing that ever happened to me, I may have gone into it with the wrong reasons, but it was the best decision I ever made.” Quentin nodded at him with earnest eyes. Eliot accepted this as understanding and went back to his story. 

“Life got bad. Life got even worse. Tried to kill myself. Didn’t work.” This time it was Quentin who reached out and joined their hands. Eliot let him. 

“Met Margo. Left the boy. Spent two years in the messiest divorce known to man. Lost my job. Lost my friends. Lost my grandmother. Came here.” He took his wine glass with a shaky hand and finished the rest of it in one swig. “Ta-da.” 

He sat in silence, staring at their joined hands on the table, letting Quentin process. He wasn’t sure what response he was going to get, or even what response he was hoping for. Quentin rubbed his thumb across the back of his hand, and he looked up to meet his eyes. 

“I’m really glad you’re still here,” he said. Eliot let out a shaky breath. _Best response._

They were interrupted by the waiter bringing them their dessert, and Eliot was grateful for the chance to compose himself again. 

“So what do you think,” he asked. “Have I scared you away yet?” 

Quentin gave him a side eye. “I’m afraid of a lot of things, Eliot, but you being a human being with a past is not one of them.”

Eliot considered that. The man sitting across from him was so casually fearless, it made him curious what did actually frighten him. Maybe it wasn't kosher to ask that on a first date, but fuck it. They'd both already revealed their trauma, what harm could saying their greatest fears do? 

"What are you afraid of, Quentin Coldwater?"

Quentin took a bite of his dessert, contemplating as he savored the taste. "I'm afraid I've gotten my one chance at true love and now I'm doomed to live the rest of my life alone, chasing an echo."

_Goddamn. Okay, then._

Quentin raised his eyebrows at Eliot, encouraging. The 'run-away-and-hide' feeling came back, but he pushed past it. Quentin had already proved he wasn't going to judge him. 

"I'm afraid I'm too much of a coward to get the things I want in life," he whispered.

That was it. That was the Great Fear. That he was going to have everything he ever wanted placed in front of him, and he would lose it because he was too goddamn scared to just reach out and take it. 

He looked at the man in front of him, this beautiful, flawed man, and he wanted him so much. He was still afraid, but for the first time, there was something else that was bigger than his fear. 

His brain told him _'it's too soon, you can't possibly know that, what if you're wrong?'._

His heart whispered _'love'._

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Quentin asked, smiling.

"You make me want to be brave."

Quentin walked him from the car to his front door at the end of the night. Because he was a gentleman, and not at all because they were in the middle of an argument about which was better: Fillory or Hogwarts? 

To be fair, Eliot wasn't really invested in the argument, simply being contrary just so he could get Quentin all worked up. He had discovered that the smaller man became absolutely _delicious_ when he was in the middle of explaining something. His hands flailed in vague gestures, his cheeks flushed red, and his eyes practically sparkled. It was making it hard for Eliot to focus on what Q was saying. He was much too busy imagining how far down Quentin's neck that flush kept going, and whether or not he would flail his hands the same way when Eliot swallowed him down. 

"You're not even listening!" Quentin pointed out, all fake outrage. 

"No, I'm not," Eliot grinned. 

Quentin shoved at him playfully, and Eliot reached out and grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers. The shorter man's face flushed even redder. Eliot drank in the sight, his pulse pounding in his ears from the skin on skin contact. Quentin stepped closer to him, looking up at him through thick eyelashes from mere inches away. 

"Hey," he whispered. 

"Hey." Eliot still couldn't believe this was real. 

"I…" Quentin paused, some emotion crossing his face that Eliot couldn't name, and then he was leaning forward and they were kissing. 

Eliot would never admit to being a sentimental man, but he was a secret romantic; so he supposed the universe would forgive him for admitting that when Quentin Coldwater kissed him, time stopped in its tracks. 

He wanted to focus on how this _brave, wonderful, kind_ man had just kissed him like he had nothing to lose. He wanted to marvel at how kissing Quentin felt so familiar, like they had already spent another lifetime together, and yet at the same time it felt like this was the first time anyone had ever kissed him. He wanted a lot of things, but unfortunately every single one of his brain cells had ceased functioning as soon as Quentin’s mouth had landed on his own.

He had no idea how long they stood there, kissing ever so gently on the softly lit front porch. Eliot never wanted to stop kissing Quentin. How could he, now that he knew how it felt? How their lips slowly dragged against each other, how Quentin yielded so sweetly to his mouth, the soft noises the smaller man made that Eliot happily swallowed up. 

He cradled Quentin’s head in his hands, like he was something precious, because he was. He was this perfect man, and he wanted Eliot, and Eliot wanted him too _so goddamn much_ , and it was all so overwhelming. He could feel emotion rising in his chest, a mixture of desire and panic and fear, and he had to do something before it drowned him. 

He pulled away with a gasp, refusing to go farther than a few inches. He could feel Quentin’s breath on his lips, they were both breathing heavily. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Quentin whispered. He was going slightly cross eyed, as he tried to study Eliot’s own eyes from so close a distance. 

“I-” Eliot started, the words cutting themselves off in his throat. “I don’t...someone else can give you so much more than I can. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I can’t promise you a future, I can’t even promise you next week.” 

He screwed his eyes shut, not wanting to see whatever look was on Quentin’s face right now. If Q decided to walk away from this, he had to figure out someway to let him go, even if he thought it would kill him.

“Eliot, look at me.” 

Eliot took a deep breath and opened his eyes. 

“If there’s anything I’ve learned from Alice, it’s that we’re not guaranteed anything.” Quentin’s eyes looked into his with such certainty and assurance. “I can’t promise you next week either, but I don’t care. The only thing that matters to me is today. And today, we work. We can figure everything else out as it comes.”

Eliot wanted to tell Quentin just how much that meant to him, but he had no more words left to talk about his feelings. So he did what he did best, and kissed him again. And again. And again.


	6. A Choice Must Be Made

Somehow, mornings in the Waugh household were always chaotic, even during the christmas holiday. Eliot had long since accepted that it was a normal part of being a parent to a seven year old, so it didn't surprise him when his phone just happened to ring right when the eggs started to burn and Teddy slipped and fell, knocking his head on the kitchen counter. Seven years of parenting had taught him how to multitask, however, and he managed to move the eggs of the burner and get Teddy fixed up and quiet in time to answer the call before it timed out. 

"Hello?" he answered, only slightly out of breath. 

"Hello, is this Eliot Waugh?" 

Eliot's blood ran cold. The voice was clinical and official sounding, which usually meant it was someone dealing with The Divorce. Everything had been finalized though. _Hadn't it?_

"Yes it is. Who am I speaking to?"

"Hello, Mr. Waugh. This is Alissa calling from Andrieski Hedge Funds." 

When Eliot got to the bookstore an hour later, he was surprised to see Bea talking to a man in a suit. They were walking around the shop as the man pointed out various things to the shop owner, who looked more dismayed with every little thing he pointed out. Eliot held Teddy back from running to her and they waited at the front desk. He strained his ears to try and overhear what they were talking about, but their voices were too hushed. Finally the man left and Bea noticed they were there. 

"Well, if it isn't my two favorite boys!" she called out. 

She came over, giving Teddy a warm squeeze. 

"I finished Fillory and Further, Miss Bea!" Teddy exclaimed with a proud smile. 

"Well that is perfect timing," Bea said, reaching behind the desk to pull out the next book in the series. "Because look what just came in this morning!"

Teddy's face lit up. He let out a squeal, taking the book from Bea and hugging her leg. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He quickly ran to go find the perfect spot to curl up in and dive into the new book. 

"Who's the suit?" Eliot asked, when the boy was out of earshot. Bea's face fell again at the mention of the man she had been talking to. 

"A realtor," she sighed. Eliot's eyebrows rose in shock. 

"You're selling?" He couldn't believe it. Bea had owned the store for as long as he could remember. He couldn't imagine The Book Bea without Bea herself. 

"I don't have much of a choice," Bea explained. "My health isn't what it used to be, and I just don't have the energy needed to keep running this place every day. And on top of that, we're losing money. We need more things to draw people in, more events like that book club you did, but I don't have the knowhow for something like that, or the funds to hire someone else to do it."

"What was the realtor pointing out?"

"Oh that." Bea's sadness turned to anger. "He's found a buyer, but they want to tear down all the shelves and turn it into a _gym_ of all things. Those beautiful shelves that my husband built for me!"

"You're _not_ selling to them." Eliot was outraged. He remembered Bea's husband, Gary, the few years he knew him before he passed away. He had faint memories of an old man with sparkling eyes and a cheeky grin, dressed in a corduroy jacket with pockets that were always filled with butterscotch candies. He'd barricade the doors himself before he let anyone tear down Gary's shelves.

"I'm afraid I might have to." Bea looked distraught at the thought. "It's the only offer we've gotten that's even close to the asking price, and I can't afford to wait any longer."

It felt like Eliot was losing one more thing in a long list of losses. _Am I not allowed to keep anything good in my life?_ he wondered. He reached out and pulled Bea in for a hug. If he was feeling the loss, he couldn't even imagine what it must be like for her. She sniffed quietly before gathering herself. She pulled away to consider his outfit. 

"In other news, is there a reason you're dressed extra amazing today? Possibly a date?" she asked hopefully. Eliot chuckled. 

"Not a date," he said. "I actually have a job interview in the city." 

"That's great, Eliot!" Bea's eyes widened. "Is it what you want?" 

He knew Bea meant the question very innocently. There was no way she could know how he'd stayed up all night trying to figure out what he wanted. He was quickly falling for Quentin, but he was terrified of giving up everything for a boy, he had done that before and it had turned into hell. Quentin wasn’t asking him to give up anything, however, not in the way that Mike had demanded it, so Eliot wanted to believe that this was different. Doubt was hard to shake, though. On top of that, he didn’t even know if this analyst position he was interviewing for was something he actually enjoyed or just something he'd been told he should be doing. He gave Bea a small smile. 

"I guess we're going to find out," he said. "Will you watch Teddy for me?" 

Bea smacked his arm in reprimand. "Of course, darling, you know you don't have to ask. Go break a leg." 

Eliot grinned and headed out, walking through the door and straight into a certain floppy haired teacher. Eliot steadied him so he didn't knock them both over. 

"Hey," Quentin said, looked up at him in surprise. His eyes grew wider as they travelled slowly over Eliot's body, taking in the outfit. "Oh. Hello." 

Eliot preened under the attention, like the goddamn peacock that he was. "My eyes are up here, Coldwater," he teased. Quentin’s face blushed that beautiful shade of red and he forced his eyes up to meet Eliot’s.

“Hi,” Q said, for the third time. _God, he was cute._ Eliot brushed a stray lock of hair behind Quentin’s ear. 

“Hello yourself.” They were standing far too close to each other to be considered decent in public, but Eliot didn’t step back. 

“You look nice,” Quentin said, trying hard to sound casual, bless his heart. 

“I have business in the city, figured I’d dress up for it.” Eliot didn’t want to tell him it was a job interview just yet, no need to get him all worried over something that might not be anything. Quentin’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open into a perfect ‘o’. 

“Oh, um, well, I was going to invite you to go caroling tonight, but if you’re gonna be gone…”

Eliot’s eyebrows rose. “Caroling?” That was...quaint. Quentin fidgeted in front of him.

“Yeah, there’s a whole group that goes, and Julia and I do it every year, and I was thinking, I don’t know, maybe you and Teddy would like to join us? 

Quentin’s hands were twisting together in front of him, and his whole body exuded anxiousness. Eliot was struck again by just how _brave_ this man was, pushing past his anxiety on a daily basis. He wanted to wrap him up in his arms and promise to keep him safe from the world. He settled for reaching down and taking one of Q’s hands. 

“I’d love that,” he assured. “And Teddy will be ecstatic.” 

Quentin’s face broke into a huge smile. Eliot’s heart gave a heavy thump in his chest. 

“Okay. Great!” Quentin swung their joined hands slightly, back and forth. Eliot was fairly certain it was subconscious. That didn’t stop it from being unbelievably endearing.

“I better get going,” he said. Quentin nodded.

“Okay, yeah, have fun,” he said. He seemed to debate over something, before stretching on his tiptoes and placing a quick kiss on Eliot’s cheek. He smiled shyly at the taller man before walking away.

Eliot could feel it burning on his face all the way into the city. 

Marina Andrieski was a force of nature. She reminded him a lot of Margo, but underneath all of the power and attitude there was a line of cruelty that gave him worry. The interview went well, the job was exactly what he thought it was, but he was still struggling with that question of what he wanted. If you had asked him a year ago, he would have sold his soul to Marina without a second thought. But now it felt just like that. Selling his soul. 

On the other hand, it was a job. A job that paid well and would support himself and Teddy. And without any other job offers on the horizon, he felt pressured to take it, if only to make sure he provided for his son. 

Eliot was conflicted, to say the least. 

“I think you’ll be a great fit here, Eliot,” Marina was saying, as she walked him out. “The job is yours if you want it.” They stopped in front of the giant glass doors leading out to the busy streets of New York. 

“Can I have a few days to think about it?”

Marina’s eyes sharpened. She was clearly unused to people not jumping over themselves to work for her. “Don’t take too long, Mr. Waugh. I’m not a patient woman.”

“Of course.” He shook her hand. “Thank you for your time.” 

He pushed outside, breathing in a deep breath. He felt like he had narrowly escaped being trapped in the Underworld. _Good thing I didn’t accept that coffee._

“You know, I half expected to see you coming back from the country wearing goddamn overalls and a straw hat,” a feminine voice drawled from behind him. His face lit up. 

“If I ever wear a straw hat, you have full permission to murder me,” he replied, turning to find his best friend. 

She leaned against the stone wall, all high heels and form fitting dress, looking every inch the stone cold boss that she was. Eliot’s heart sang. It had only been a few weeks since they’d seen each other, but it felt much longer than that. She must have thought so too, because she quickly propelled her tiny frame at him in a hug, arms around his neck in a vice grip. 

“Hey, Bambi,” he whispered into her hair. 

“Come on, dickhead, you’re taking me to lunch.” 

He took Margo to their favorite sushi place. He knew it had only been two weeks, but god he had missed good sushi. He added it to the mental list of Things He Missed About New York. So far the list was Margo and sushi. Not exactly the long list he thought it would be.

“So tell me about Hallmark Movie Town. Is it exactly what you remembered? Have you had to raise a barn or chase a pig or whatever else it is people do outside of civilization?” 

Her comment stung, which surprised him. He had described Hopewell almost the same way weeks ago when he was preparing to leave. Now however, he had the urge to defend his little town, and since when did he think of Hopewell as _his_ town? 

“Surprisingly, it’s actually been quite nice,” he said, not looking up from his maki rolls. He felt Margo’s gaze burrowing into his skull. 

“Okay, who did you meet?” Her voice was like steel, hard and cold. 

He looked up at her. She looked angry, and under that she looked concerned, and under that she looked fucking terrified. _His Bambi, always his guardian angel._ He knew how much of a wreck he had been after Mike, and how she had been there to pick up every single shattered piece of his heart and painstakingly sew it back together again. He knew the thought of having to see him go through that again must be terrifying. Hell, _he_ was terrified. He didn’t know how he was supposed to convince her that he was okay, that this was going to be okay, if he didn’t even feel convinced himself. 

“His name is Quentin. He’s a teacher. Teddy adores him.” He hesitated. “I adore him.”

Margo looked away, hand gripping and releasing her napkin on the table. Over and over. Gripping and releasing. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking and it was killing him. She finally looked back and fixed him with a determined gaze. 

“Okay. I’m gonna start talking, and you’re gonna shut up and let me get it all out, and then you’re gonna take it for whatever it’s worth, alright?” 

He swallowed hard and nodded. They didn’t usually do this, talking honestly about things, and especially not about their feelings, so if she was forcing herself too it meant it was incredibly important to her. 

“I fucking care about you, you hear me? You’re my best friend and the only goddamn person in this world that matters to me, and if anyone tries to hurt you, I will remove their nutsack slowly and painfully.” 

Eliot couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at that mental image. Margo glared at him and he shut up.

“I don’t trust people. That’s not what I do. I’m a bitch, and I’m aggressive, and I’m really fucking protective. So I don’t trust this Quentin person, and I probably never will.” She leaned forward and gripped Eliot’s hands, making him look at her. “But I trust you, Eliot. You’ve been through the worst shit I’ve ever seen a person been put through, and you are still standing. I trust you to know what is going to make you happy.”

Eliot felt tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t know why Margo had such faith in him, when he felt like he was the biggest failure. He had no idea what was going to make him happy. He didn’t even know if he knew how to be happy. 

“So whatever you decide, just know that I’m in your corner, okay?” Margo squeezed his hands. There were tears in the corners of her eyes as well. 

“Thanks, Bambi,” he sniffed. 

She sat back in her chair, satisfied that she had gotten her point across. Under the table, she nudged his leg with her foot. “I love you.”

He grinned up at her. “I know.”

“Don’t Han Solo me, you bitch.”

That night, the town of Hopewell were blessed by truly the worst carolers Eliot thought the world had ever seen. Quentin and Teddy seemed to be competing for who could be the loudest. Julia and Eliot tried valiantly to keep them on key and failed spectacularly. Grace couldn’t remember any of the lyrics and only joined in on the last word of each line. Kady was determined to show off her range, which would have worked if everyone else sang normally, but as it was it only added to the chaos. It was without a doubt the worst performance Eliot had ever been a part of. 

He loved every minute of it. 

Still processing everything that had happened that day, Eliot mostly kept back and watched Quentin and Teddy interact. They walked hand in hand, Quentin listening as Teddy talked animatedly about whatever he had done that day. Eliot’s heart did that flip-flop in his chest that sounded an awful lot like _‘family’_ , but the feeling went sour when he remembered the job offer. He had a decision to make, and that decision might take him away from this little could-be family. 

Eliot reached out and laced his fingers through Quentins, smiling when the shorter man looked back at him in pleased surprise. Teddy rolled his eyes at the two of them, but didn’t seem too put out, bouncing forward to chatter at Grace instead. Quentin fell into step beside Eliot, leaning into him happily. 

“How was your trip to the city?” he asked. Eliot’s hand tightened around his. He knew he needed to talk to Quentin about it, but his brain was being a petulant child and screaming _‘I don’t wanna!’._

“Well, I got to see Margo,” he said, easing himself into it. Quentin’s face lit up. He didn’t know Margo, but he knew how important she was to Eliot.

“That’s great!” he said. Eliot nodded, bracing himself. 

“I also had a job interview.” He didn’t look at Quentin. He didn’t think he could handle seeing the look on his face right now. 

“Oh.” Quentin’s voice was soft. “That’s...that’s great. Um, is it a good job? I mean, is it something you like?” 

Eliot wanted to scream with how goddamn nice Quentin was being about it. He wanted to shake him and say _‘No you idiot! I don’t like the job, I like you!’._

“It’s what I used to do, just at a better company. The pay is higher, more benefits too.” He hated the words that were coming out of his mouth, wanted to take them back and bury them miles under the dirt, where they can never make Quentin think that he values _all of that_ more than him. 

“That sounds...that sounds really good for you.” Quentin’s head was tucked down towards his chest, hiding his face from Eliot. He kept his firm grip on Eliot’s hand, like it was his last lifeline to keeping it together.

Eliot hated it. He hated every single thing about this. _Ask me to stay and I will_ , he begged. He knew that he shouldn’t, that nothing good comes from giving everything up to a boy who asks for your entire life, but he couldn't help it. _Just ask me to stay._

But Quentin was a good man. He would never ask that of Eliot. 

They walked on in silence. Eliot didn’t say whether he was going to take the job or not, but he didn’t have to. The uncertainty of it hung in the air between them now. The worst part was, Eliot knew Quentin wouldn’t hate him if he chose the job, because he was such a _good fucking person_ like that, he honestly just wanted Eliot to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him. 

Eliot wanted to be happy too. But which path was going to lead him to that elusive goal of happiness?


	7. Betrayed

It was the morning of the Christmas Extravaganza, and something was bothering Teddy. He had been in a mood ever since he woke up, not wanting to eat and instead just stared morosely at his pancakes. Eliot was in his own mood after how last night had ended, but he knew it was his job as a parent to put aside his own shit for a minute and figure out what was bothering his son. He sat down beside the small boy, nudging him with his elbow.

“What’s wrong, Teddy Bear?” he asked gently. Teddy shrugged his shoulders, looking down at his lap. 

“Santa hates me,” his little voice whispered, sounding just as sad as a kid could be. 

“The Santa in the Christmas Village, the one that you’ve been going to see?” Eliot asked. The boy nodded. “Santa doesn’t hate you, why would you think that?”

“Because I asked him for you to be happy for Christmas, but you’re still sad.” Teddy sniffled, refusing to look up at Eliot’s face. “If Santa doesn’t give you what you ask for, that means you’re on the naughty list and he hates you.”

A stab to the gut would have hurt less than hearing his kid saying those words. He had been working so hard to give Teddy everything he himself had never had, and his son just wanted him to be happy. Maybe Julia was right and all of the worry that he thought he was seeing in Teddy was really just this, and the secret to making his little family happy again was for Eliot to find his own happiness. 

“Santa doesn’t hate you, okay? No one hates you.” Eliot said, running his fingers soothingly through Teddy’s hair. 

“But he didn’t make you happy!” Teddy exclaimed. “I told him about the christmas tree and Paris and everything!” 

Eliot hid a smile at his son’s list of things that would make Papa happy. He loved this kid _so much_ and he hated that he’d been so affected by what Eliot had gone through. 

“I know I haven’t been very happy lately, I’m sorry.” He had no idea how to begin to explain something like this to a child, but he felt he owed it to Teddy to at least try. “Sometimes grown-ups lose their happy, and they have to find it again. Papa just lost his happy for a little bit, but it’s okay, because I’m finding little pieces of it again.” 

Teddy’s brow furrowed as he wrapped his brain around that concept. He finally looked up at Eliot, hopeful. “Am I a piece of your happy, Papa?”

Eliot thanked his lucky stars that he got to have this amazing kid. He cradled his tiny face in his hands and leaned down to rub their noses together in an eskimo kiss. 

“You are the biggest piece, my darling.”

Teddy gave a relieved smile, wiggling out of his grip so that he could burrow his face into Eliot’s chest in a hug. Eliot held him close and gently stroked his back, until the boy spoke up again, his voice muffled against Eliot’s shirt. 

“I miss Daddy.” 

His voice was so quiet Eliot could barely hear it, but it still made his heart break. Eliot wished more than anything that he could have given Teddy a different choice, that he could have grown up with two parents who loved him and never disappointed him, that he never had to learn how to deal with the pain of losing a parent. But he couldn’t change anything now, all he could do was try and be the best parent he could. 

“I know you do, buddy. It’s okay to miss him. I miss him too, sometimes.”

Teddy looked up at him surprised. “Really?” he asked. Eliot nodded. More accurately, he missed the idea of the family that they were supposed to be, but that was a little too complicated to try and explain to a seven year old, so he wasn’t going to try. 

“Of course! Everyone misses people. I miss Daddy, and I miss Grandma, and I miss Auntie Margo when she’s far away. But you know what helps me feel better?” 

Teddy shook his head, waiting with wide eyes to hear the magic cure to sadness. Eliot brushed the little boy’s bedhead away from his eyes gently, overcome with love. 

“I remember everyone who’s still here, who loves me. I remember you…” he poked a finger at Teddy’s chest, wiggling it to tickle him as the boy giggled. “I remember Mrs. Bea.”

Teddy’s face lit up. “And Auntie Julia and Grace!”

“Exactly.” Eliot smiled down at his son, who had now relaxed and was kicking his legs underneath his chair. 

“And Mr. Q!” Teddy added. 

Eliot’s heart dropped at the mention of Quentin, remembering how they had left things last night. 

“Yeah, buddy. And Mr. Q.”

That night, the town of Hopewell was enveloped in pure magic. Eliot had his complaints about small towns, but he couldn’t deny that they certainly knew how to go all out for Christmas. El and his little entourage were enthralled by all the lights and the music and the decorations, and for once, Teddy and Grace were stunned into silence. 

Quentin never strayed far from Eliot’s side. There was still the unspoken question between them of ‘will he stay or will he go’, but they had regained their easy companionship. Eliot teased Quentin about the frankly ridiculous Christmas sweater he was wearing, and Quentin made Eliot try all of the holiday treats that were packed with way too much sugar. With Kady and Julia being all lovey dovey right next to them, it was easy to flirt and tease each other and try and forget that it might all be ending in a few days. 

Their group cheered the loudest when Bea, and by extension Eliot, won the window decoration contest. Eliot tried not to grin too wide when Quentin threw his arms around his neck in celebration, but judging by the way Julia was looking at him, he wasn’t succeeding. They wandered through the festivities afterwards, and if Eliot let his arm drape across Quentin’s shoulders, well it was just because there were lots of people milling about and he didn’t want to lose the shorter man in the crowd. 

They both turned when someone called Quentin’s name and watched as a man on crutches awkwardly maneuvered his way towards them. Quentin laughed, letting go of Eliot to catch the man as he wobbled closer, his balance threatening to give out and make him break his remaining good leg. The man didn’t seem to care about his impending doom as he gave the pair an open, easy smile. 

“Merry Christmas!” he said, swinging his arms wide and almost hitting a passing woman with his crutch. 

“Eliot, this is my friend Josh, he teaches at the middle school with me,” Quentin explained. Eliot answered Josh’s awkward crutch-wave with a gesture at his leg. 

“Did your students get revenge?” he asked. Josh laughed, his head thrown back. Josh was clearly far too happy-go-lucky for Eliot to ever deal with for long periods of time, but he seemed to make Quentin happy, so Eliot decided he could tolerate him for Q’s sake. 

“Ha! No, I fell off a sleigh.” Josh said. “Yeah, Q here was awesome and stepped in for me, when I couldn’t be Santa anymore in the village. I don’t know why they didn’t ask him in the first place, he’s great with the kids.” 

_Quentin was Santa? The Santa that Teddy had been talking to?_

“You were Santa?” 

Eliot pushed down the initial stab of betrayal, could even probably have worked past it and not made a fuss, but when he turned to look at Quentin the smaller man looked _so fucking guilty_.

Eliot had been trying to repress all of his messy complicated emotions for the past two weeks, in an attempt to make decisions like a level headed adult. But at the look on Quentin’s face, they all came flooding through his brain like that scene in The Shining. Some tiny voice far in the back of his head tried to tell him to calm down and listen to Quentin’s side of the story, but it quickly got swept away with the flood. 

“Eliot…” Quentin placated, taking Eliot’s hand in his and trying to turn him to face him. 

“No, hold on, I wanna talk about this. You were Santa?” Eliot’s voice was sharp as a knife, and Quentin startled. His mouth fell open. Suddenly Teddy’s list of things he had told Santa would make his papa happy made way too much sense. The _christmas tree_ that Quentin had just shown up with, the restaurant that looked like it belonged in _Paris_. Everything was falling into place and it made Eliot feel sick. 

“Y-yes, but…” Quentin stammered. Eliot yanked his hand out the other man’s grip, letting his anger take over. 

“So every time Teddy went to go see Santa this week, that was really you _interrogating_ my child for info about me?” Eliot couldn’t believe it. His worst fear was that someone would use his child to try to get to him, and it was something he thought Quentin would never do. But it had happened, and here was the proof.

“No, Eliot, it wasn’t like that!” Quentin’s eyes were welling up with tears. “He just said you didn’t have a tree, so I thought…”

“You used Teddy to get to me!” 

Behind him, Josh slowly edged away from the men, letting them have their privacy. Maybe the man had more sense than Eliot had first thought. 

“You have to believe me, that wasn’t what I was doing!” Quentin was pleading with him, a single tear rolling down his cheek, and Eliot had to look away before his heart shattered at the sight.

“I let you into our lives. I can’t believe I was so stupid.” Eliot took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. 

“You weren’t stupid, you were brave,” Quentin said, in a quiet voice. “And if you’d just let me explain…” But Eliot was already backing away, both mentally and physically, putting distance between himself and the man he was starting to fall in lo….the man he had thought that he knew.

“I opened up to you, Quentin,” Eliot went on, “I don’t do that, especially not after Mike! And you made me believe that it would be okay, that I could trust you.”

“You can trust me!” Eliot wanted to believe Quentin’s words, more than anything. He wanted to trust him, wanted to believe that he hadn’t done what Eliot thought he had, but right now all he could feel was the pain in his chest that was telling him that _everyone will always hurt you._  
  
“I’ve already had my heart broken once, Quentin, and it took every last bit of strength I have to recover from it. And I’m not gonna risk having my heart broken again.” He finally looked back at Quentin, at the look of pain in the other man’s eyes, and he could see his heart breaking in front of him. This was too much, it was overwhelming, he couldn’t breathe, he had to get out of there.

“El, please…”

“Goodbye, Quentin.”

Eliot ran away before Quentin could see the hot tears rushing down his face. 

Quentin stood where Eliot had left him, trying not to break down while he was in public. He couldn’t believe that had just happened, kept trying to convince himself it was just a misunderstanding, that he had remembered it wrong, that Eliot hadn’t just said goodbye like it was the last thing he’d ever say to him. Quentin couldn’t breathe. He had let this man into his heart and made space for him there, this beautiful man who made him laugh and want to write again, and Eliot had just ripped himself back out again, leaving him bleeding. 

He would’ve moved to New York. That’s what he had been planning on telling Eliot tonight. He would have moved to New York to be with him. Eliot had a kid, Teddy came before anything else, Quentin knew that, and if that job was what Eliot needed to provide for his son, well, there were plenty of teaching jobs in the city. Quentin’s job was replaceable. Eliot was not. 

_Eliot was not replaceable._

Quentin wanted Eliot. He wanted Eliot and Teddy and their happy little family, wanted it more than he’d wanted anything since Alice. He would have followed Eliot anywhere, but it was too late. He’d messed up, and now he had lost the best thing that had ever happened to him before he even really got to have it at all. 

Just when he thought he had a chance at being happy again, it slipped through his fingers, leaving him alone and hurting once more.


	8. Be Brave

It was Christmas Eve and Eliot Waugh was hungover.

Last night, after everything that went down at the Extravaganza, Teddy had gone to spend the night at Julia’s and Eliot had gone home and drank. A lot. He had called Margo and ranted about everything, refusing to listen when she tried to calm him down and reason with him. At some point between the second and third bottle of wine, angry drunk Eliot turned into sad drunk Eliot, and he had started crying. 

It was at that point that Julia had let herself in, taking his phone and letting him curl up in her lap and cry himself out. He could hear Julia talking to Margo in hushed tones above him, but he was too sad and drunk to care at that point. He had let himself sob out all of his heartache and feelings of betrayal until he slowly slipped away into sleep.

 _Every time_ , El thought to himself as he nodded off to the sound of Julia filling a glass with water and leaving it on the table next to him. _This happens to me every time._

Now it was morning and his head was pounding. Somehow he had gotten up to his bed, although he had no recollection of that happening. The early morning sunlight was streaming through the window, and he could hear birds chirping outside. It was a picture perfect Christmas Eve, except for the part where he felt like absolute shit. 

He rolled over, groaning, and buried his face in his pillow. Memories of last night flashed unbidden across his mind. Eliot’s angry voice yelling, Quentin looking like he was about to cry, Quentin _actually_ crying and trying to explain, Eliot not knowing what to believe, Eliot running away because that’s all he fucking knows how to do. 

El started to feel guilty about the fact that he hadn’t given Quentin the chance to say anything. It reminded him of how Mike always ‘won’ their arguments, by refusing to listen to Eliot’s side of the story. Mike would always just walk away, disappearing in the middle of their fights, sometimes for hours and sometimes for days. When he finally would show up again, he would pretend like nothing had happened, and if Eliot tried to talk about it, Mike would call him crazy and tell him to stop picking fights when everything was clearly fine. 

Eliot blinked back tears. He didn’t want to be like Mike. He couldn’t be. 

He sat up in bed, spying the glass of water Julia had left on the bedside table. He downed it in one go, running his fingers through his unruly curls in an attempt to make himself feel human again. He had to figure out what he was going to do. Part of him wanted to find Quentin and hear his side of the story, part of him wanted to wallow in bed forever, and another part just wanted to slink back to New York and lick his wounds. 

He could hear Margo’s voice in his head, telling him to put on his ‘big boy panties’ and sort his shit out. He rolled his eyes. Well if he was going to sort his shit out, there was only one place that was going to help. 

There was a sign on the door of The Book Bea that said ‘Closed Until Next Year’, but Eliot knew Bea wouldn’t mind if he let himself in. She had given him a key for emergencies, and he figured this current life crisis he was going through constituted an emergency of the highest order. 

He stood in the dimly lit bookstore and looked around at everything that this special place was to him; the childhood haven he remembered, the place that Teddy had come to love, the fresh start he needed after falling apart. He could see evidence of his own touch that had grown in the space over the past few weeks. 

It was in the middle of that closed bookstore that Eliot had the most important realization he would ever need to have. He realized that here, in this place, with these people, he’d felt like himself for the first time in a very very long time. And that it was not a coincidence. 

He had been trying for so long to forget about Hopewell, because the memories were too painful. It hurt to think about a time and place when he had been happy, knowing that he could never have it again. He had buried that part of himself deep down and ignored it, hearing Mike’s voice whispering in his ear _‘that’s not who you truly are’._ But over the past three weeks he had rediscovered his true self, and it had everything to do with Hopewell. It was in fact, _because_ of this place and these people, that he felt like himself again. 

The knowledge hit him like a load of bricks. This was where he was supposed to be, there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind. But what about Quentin? Could he forgive Q for lying to him? Would Q forgive him?

"You dense ass motherfucker." 

Eliot spun around, startled. Margo was standing in the doorway, sun shining behind her, looking for all the world like a benevolent Christmas angel, here to bestow wisdom with insults, threats, and curse words. 

“Margo? What the fuck?”

Margo stepped into the bookstore, closing the door behind her. She looked around the place with a critical eye, ignoring Eliot’s question. Whatever she saw seemed to satisfy her, because she gave it a nod of acceptance and turned her attention to the man standing in front of her. 

“Honey, I love you, but you’re a fucking idiot,” she said. Eliot gaped at her, but she held up a hand to stave off his protests. “You were too wasted to listen to me last night. So, are you gonna listen to me now?” 

All Eliot could do was nod. 

“I tried to give you the whole ‘follow your heart’ speech at lunch the other day, but apparently that was too subtle for you, so let me make it explicitly clear.” She cleared her throat and poised herself, speaking slowly and clearly for dramatic emphasis, because she was a bitch like that. “You are in love with the best man either of us have ever met and if you don't go suck his cock right this second, then I'm gonna go do it for you.”

Eliot sputtered at her. Trust Margo to cut right through all the bullshit and get straight to the heart of the matter. “In love? I am not in love. And how do you know he’s the ‘best man’ we’ve known? He used Teddy to get to me!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Margo planted her hands on her hips. “I talked to that boy for all of five minutes and even then…”

“Wait, you talked to Quentin?” Eliot interrupted, confused.

Margo raised her hand and her voice. “AND EVEN THEN! I could tell that he doesn’t have a fucking manipulative bone in his body. He wasn’t using Teddy. He saw a sad man and a cute kid and did his best to make them happier, purely out of the kindness of his goddamn heart. The man’s a unicorn.”

“A unicorn?” Eliot was trying to keep up, but for fucks sake, this bitch was making it difficult. 

“A _good person_ , Eliot.” She stepped closer to him, taking his hands in her own with uncharacteristic gentleness. “Someone good and true loves you. I know it’s scary, El, but you can’t just walk away from that.”

_Well, fuck. When she puts it that way._

He gripped her hands tightly. Goddess bless his Bambi, sweeping in to save the day as always. She was right, though, he’d never forgive himself if he walked away from Quentin now. He didn’t know if Q would even see him, but he had to try. Then reality came crashing back down on his head. 

“I need a job, Bambi! I can’t just relocate Teddy without some sort of assurance that I can take care of him. What would I do here?” he asked. 

Margo groaned in exasperation and turned him to look at the ‘For Sale’ sign in the window. “She’s selling the book store, Eliot! Come on, baby, I can’t connect all the dots for you. Use that big brain of yours.” 

Eliot’s eyes grew wide as he figured out what she was suggesting. _Was it possible? Could he actually, for once, get to keep everything he loved?_ Hope started to rise in his chest, and a slow smile spread across his face. “Margo, you’re a genius.”

“You’re damn right I am.” She grinned at him. “Now let’s go buy this joint.” 

There were probably better ways to find someone on Christmas Eve than what Eliot and Margo were doing, but they had always been The Most Dramatic Bitches. Which is why they were currently running down main street, bursting into every store they passed, frantically calling out Bea’s name and asking everyone they passed if they’d seen her. They finally caught sight of her through the window of the coffeeshop, standing in line with Teddy, Julia, and Grace.

“Bea!” Eliot shouted, waving his arms to get her attention through the glass. 

“Teddy!” Margo had other priorities. 

The entire coffee shop turned around to see what the commotion was about, and young Teddy’s eyes grew as big as saucers as he realized who was outside.

“Auntie Margo!” 

People stepped out of the way with a laugh as he came flying out of the shop in a tiny blur, launching himself into Margo’s waiting arms. 

“I missed you, Auntie Margo!” Teddy had his arms around her neck in a vice grip. Margo’s face had that tender look that she only got around her nephew. 

“I missed you too, little stink,” she said softly, holding him tight. 

“Is everything okay out here?” The barista, a young woman whose name tag read Fen, asked as she came outside, followed by Bea, Julia, and Grace. 

“Yes! We’re fine, sorry.” Eliot laughed. “Family reunion.” He expected the barista to head back outside but she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of Margo.

“Well, you kids sure are causing a ruckus this morning,” Bea said. Eliot spun on his heels to face her, remembering why he was here. 

“I want to buy the store!” he blurted out. 

“You what?” Bea asked, as her mouth fell open in shock. Julia looked between them with wide eyes.

“I want to buy The Book Bea and keep it as a bookstore. I want to update it and organize events at it and make it everything we talked about.” He wrung his hands together, the words pouring out of him as he tried to make her see how perfect it could be. “The Book Bea was a home when I needed it, it was a place that always accepted me exactly the way I was, and gave me hope that I could be someone great. It saved me as a kid, and it saved me now.”

Bea was crying. She had to know that when he talked about The Book Bea, he really meant her. “Eliot…” she whispered, overcome with emotion. 

“Please let me do this. Yes, I realize the irony of a man who refuses to read buying a bookshop, but I am a peddler of tales and that has never changed.” They were both crying now. “I promise I’ll do your legacy proud, Bea.” 

Bea dabbed at her eyes and tried to compose herself. She cleared her throat, fixing Eliot with a challenging look. “You make a compelling argument, young man. I will sell the store to you on one condition.” 

“Anything,” he promised.

“The shelves stay up.” 

Eliot laughed. He laughed because it was the only thing he could do with all the joy that was filling him. He swept Bea up in a hug, squeezing her tight, trying to give her some of the joy that was erupting out of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so goddamn _happy_. 

He could see Julia out of the corner of his eye, wiping away her own tears. He reached out one arm towards her, needing to share it with her too. She slid into the space right beside him, tucked under his arm, hugging both him and Bea. Then Margo was on his other side, arms stretched to envelop them all, and Teddy and Grace were wiggling their way inside the circle, determined not to be left out. 

They were all here. They all loved him. _His family._

“El.” He raised his head, blinking away the tears so he could find Margo’s face. “You have one more person to go find, remember?”

 _Quentin_. 

“Are you coming?” he asked. 

She shook her head, glancing away to look at the barista who hovered on the edge of the group, delighting in their happiness. “No, I think I’m gonna stay here and talk to Fen.”

Eliot raised an eyebrow. “Go, Bambi.” 

Margo rolled her eyes at him. “Get out of here, dumbass. Go get your unicorn.”

Eliot found Quentin in the Christmas Village, packing up the decorations around the Santa Station. He paused when he saw the dejected look on Quentin’s face, but knew that he couldn’t let anything stop him from telling Q how he felt. _He had to be brave._

“Quentin.” He stayed a distance away, he didn’t want the other man to feel crowded or trapped. Quentin turned to look at him, his face registering surprise before he carefully crafted it into a hard mask. Eliot hated that he had hurt Q so much that he felt like he had to wear a mask around him now. 

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.” Quentin said. He held a string of lights in front of him, a physical barrier between himself and Eliot. 

“I couldn’t leave things the way we did last night,” El said. “I was an idiot and I let myself get carried away. I should have listened to you, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t use Teddy, and I know it doesn’t erase what I said and did, but I do trust you, Q.” 

“You’re right, it doesn’t erase it,” Quentin said. Eliot thought that was it, but then Q’s mask softened just a little bit. “But it does help.”

Eliot relaxed as Quentin turned to put the string of lights in a box, grateful that Q had accepted his apology. Even if nothing else happened between them, at least he had that. But he still had to try for that something else. _Be brave._

“I’m staying in Hopewell,” he said. “I bought The Book Bea, Teddy and I are staying.”

Quentin turned around to stare at him, eyes wide. “What?” Eliot couldn’t tell if it was horror or excitement that was on Q’s face, so he rushed to explain.

“I’m not expecting anything from you, I need you to know that. I know I can’t just tell you I’m staying and expect you to forgive everything instantly.” He took a step towards Quentin, taking another when the other man didn’t move away or tell him to stop. 

“But if you let me, I’d do anything for the chance to start over and try again, because I think you could be it for me.” He had reached Quentin now. He stood mere inches away, gazing into Q’s unreadable eyes. This was it, this was the moment where he either laid it all on the line, or ran away like he had a million times before. Eliot was so sick of running.

_Be brave. Be brave. Be brave._

“I love you, Quentin Coldwater.” 

Eliot held his breath waiting for Quentin’s response. He kept looking at him, searching his face intently. Eliot didn’t know if he would find what he was looking for, or even what he was looking for, but he desperately hoped he measured up to whatever it was he was seeking. Finally, Quentin’s face smoothed out and his lips spread in an intimate smile that Eliot somehow knew was only for him. 

“Say it again,” he breathed out, a whispered permission for the rest of their lives. Eliot couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him again. He’d laughed more in this one day than he could ever remember laughing before. 

He cradled Quentin’s face in his hands, tracing his thumbs along his cheekbones, holding him like the precious thing he was. 

“I love you, my darling Q.” 

This beautiful, wonderful, _incredibly brave_ man. He loved him so much it terrified him and comforted him, all at the same time. Quentin looked at him like he was beautiful and wonderful and brave too, and that felt like the most unbelievable thing of all. Q wrapped his arms around Eliot’s waist, fitting himself against him like the perfect puzzle piece, like they had been created to fit into each other. He stretched up on his tiptoes until his mouth brushed against Eliot’s. 

“I love you, too.” He whispered the words against Eliot’s lips, the truth of them burning into his skin. He was everything Eliot had ever wanted, and he was standing in front of him, loving him. The only thing left to do was to kiss him. Again. 

And again.

And again.

**THE END**


End file.
